Ripple
by raven612
Summary: Sherlock and John are charged with the care of Harry's twins while she and her wife are on holiday. Sherlock hates kids, but that doesn't keep a certain consulting criminal away from him or John. Established Sherlock/Watson.
1. It's a Surprise

**Ripple  
><strong>By: Raven612  
><strong>Chapter 1<strong>: It's a Surprise  
>Disclaimer: Listen up, disclaimers are annoying to put in each chapter so it will only be seen here in chapter one! I do not own Sherlock or Watson; sadly, they belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the other people lucky enough to own the character rights.<p>

**Summary: **All it takes is one drop to disrupt and entire body of water. Watson arrives home late one night with a surprise in tow. Established Sherlock/Watson. Rating M because there will be lemons and lemonade!

**A/N: **Well, it has been ages since I wrote a new fanfic, and I should update the ones I have already, but you know how that goes…maybe one day I will finish one or two of my other fics. Anyways, on with the story and please, for the love of Mycroft, leave me a review! thank you!

I'm on my way home, stop worrying. I have a surprise.  
><strong>JW<strong>

Sherlock studied the text message from John and frowned. In his experience, which was actually quite limited in the surprise area, this surprise could go one of two ways. It could be a lovely surprise or a horrific surprise, and Sherlock was leaning more towards the pessimistic view. He frowned and noted the time, half past midnight which was very late for _his _John to be out.

Earlier in the night John had gotten a telephone call from Harry and it sounded urgent. Sherlock couldn't hear exactly what Harry was saying, but from John's facial expressions, it hadn't been good. As soon as he had hung up, John grabbed his jacket and hurried out of the flat with a mumbled 'be back later' to which Sherlock's response was to hurry after him, but John stopped him and told him he had to go alone. Sherlock frowned at the statement, but backed off nonetheless. As the door slammed in his face he shot it a scathing scowl and turned to retreat to his chair where he pulled his knees to his chest and pouted for a good half hour.

For the first hour that John was gone Sherlock had immersed himself in his latest experiment, a study in how different air types affected the skin of a deceased person. Sherlock had been forced to move this particular experiment into the cellar of the building by both Mrs. Hudson and John. Sherlock still didn't understand their aversions to science, but he conceded. It was one thing to please John, which he strived to do on a daily basis, but Mrs. Hudson was another story.

After the first hour Sherlock sent John a text asking what was going on to which he received no reply. After an allotted time Sherlock sent another message, this time he was in their flat pacing, to which he didn't receive another reply. Growing uneasy Sherlock sent a message to Harry hoping that she might reply to him since his lover refused to, but still no reply. It was nearly eleven o'clock then and Sherlock was getting worried. He dialed John then hoping that the fact he was calling him would spark some sort of response since Sherlock rarely phoned anyone, but John still didn't answer. By this point in time Sherlock had grown past worry to full on panic. He was only moments from phoning DI Lestrade and ordering a manhunt when he had finally gotten a text from John. To say Sherlock was miffed would be inadequate, he was downright pissed, but he'd never give John the satisfaction.

I'm not worried John, merely bored.  
><strong>SH<strong>

Right, and I enjoy fruit hats. How many times must I tell you that I'm a big boy and can  
>handle myself?<br>**JW**

Irrelevant. I just wanted to know what was wrong with Harry this time.  
><strong>SH<strong>

No you didn't.  
><strong>JW<strong>

Okay, I didn't, but you cannot blame me for worrying John.  
><strong>SH<strong>

Well, no need to worry now love, I'm just coming onto our street, see you in a minute.  
><strong>JW<strong>

Sherlock grinned at the last message and put his phone back into his pocket. He stood from his chair and moved to the window. He saw a pair of headlights turn down their street and Sherlock couldn't help the slight grin. It almost felt like Christmas morning whenever John came home from an outing, or at least that's the closest feeling Sherlock would relate the erratic beating of his heart and sweaty palms to. He'd never had a reason to be excited on Christmas morning, or any morning for that matter before meeting John Watson. Hell, Sherlock sometimes doubted that he actually lived at any point before John Watson waltzed into his life. Now that Sherlock came to possess this feeling, this emotion of love, he was going to fight like hell to keep it in his possession. Sherlock, the long time sociopath was in possession of love…but then that only extended to John and no one else.

Sherlock moved to the door of John and his' flat and stood there waiting. He was debating giving John a piece of his mind about his lack of communication or welcoming him back and showing John just what he needed, but then the sound of footsteps up the stairs made him narrow his gaze. Something about the tromping sounded off and unlike John. Sherlock concentrated, there was more than just one person coming up the stairs. The other person was smaller, much smaller and John's footfalls sounded heavier than usual, heavier even then when he is weighted down with fatigue. Sherlock brought his hand up and rubbed it over his face as he attempted to deduce who was with John and what he was carrying, and then it hit him. He took a step back from the door.

"Oh dear God no," he muttered just as the door opened.

"Sherlock?" John called as he entered the flat with a wrapped bundle in his arms and one standing next to him.

Sherlock answered with a glare when he saw Harry's twins come home with John, "Please tell me they're here for the night," Sherlock grumbled as his eyes flicked from James, asleep in John's arms to Annabelle standing next to him.

John frowned, "Sherlock," he started in a slow voice to which Sherlock groaned and turned away.

"Uncle Lock!" the little girl yelled happily and dropped John's hand and zoomed across the threshold and wrapped her tiny arms around Sherlock's waist and buried her head into the small of his back.

If there was anything in the world Sherlock detested more than anything in the world it was the two holy terrors Harry and her wife were raising. Sherlock stiffened and frowned severely. He reached down and pried the girl's arms from him and moved away from her, "How long?" he asked John as he turned to face him.

Annabelle stuck her tongue out at him before going back to John and wrapping her arms around his waist.

John glared at him and welcomed Annabelle to his side once more, "Two weeks, Harry and Julie have gone on holiday," John told him with a leveled gaze which delivered the real message to Sherlock.

Sherlock glared, Harry and Julie had gone away for counseling, that's what John wasn't saying, "No," Sherlock said in a clipped tone which meant that John had better get the kids out of the flat within the next hour or suffer his wrath.

"Stop being so childish," John muttered and set a rousing John on the floor and started to unwrap them, both of the children yawning wide now and rubbing their eyes.

"I am not childish, I just don't wa-"

"Sherlock," John snapped cutting him off, "I'll meet you in the bedroom," he continued in a softened tone and smiled at his lover.

Sherlock narrowed his gaze; it was unfair. John _knew_ his smile would make Sherlock do nearly anything. He mumbled incoherent explicative's under his breath and turned towards their room, stomping much like a child.

John sighed, well, he'd be taking care of three children now he realized with a shake of his head. He returned his attention to James and Annabelle who were too tired now to put up much of a fight with him as he led them to the spare room. John had ordered Sherlock to clear it of any experiments a year back for the fact that James and Anna did spend the night every now and again, but the flat itself hadn't been entirely cleared but the children had long since grown used to the odds and ends the eccentric consulting detective left lying about.

God help him, John did love Sherlock fiercely but that didn't keep the detective from getting on his nerves every now and again, but there was something about the dark haired, handsome man that kept John wanting even more. At the thought John absently licked his lips as he tucked the kids into the large bed. He stood and leaned over them and pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads.

"Goodnight loves," he muttered and smoothed a hand along each of their heads. As he left the room he plugged in a night light for them and left their door open a crack. They were pretty used to the flat by now so John wasn't worried. He arched his back as he crossed the sitting room and towards the room he and Sherlock shared. He pushed the door open and found Sherlock already in bed, on his side, and with his back to John. John sighed and shook his head. He pulled his jumped from his body and peeled off his undershirt. Next he discarded his trousers and left them in a bundle on the floor. He grinned to himself now clad in only boxers and moved towards the bed. He grabbed the covers and peeled them back. John sighed as he got into bed.

"I am not happy John," Sherlock mumbled without turning to face John.

John frowned and put his arm around Sherlock's waist to pull him closer, John had to scoot up to nuzzle his face into the taller man's neck. He let his warm breath move over the detective's skin and his lips pressed against Sherlock's neck, "It's only two weeks Sherlock," John whispered and lifted his head to gently nip Sherlock's ear lobe.

Sherlock stiffened, he would not be so easily manipulated, he kept his arms firmly crossed and eyes glaring at the window, but he could not stop the shiver that raced along his spine, "No John, I refuse to have those monsters here longer than a night let alone a fortnight," Sherlock stated as he still attempted to ignore John's lips that were now dancing along his shoulders.

John just smiled against Sherlock's cool pale skin. "The time will fly," John reassure him and flicked his tongue out to taste Sherlock's skin.

Sherlock growled and finally flipped over to face John, he was still upset, but now need accompanied his anger as he wrapped his arms around John and hungrily sought his mouth. The kiss was hard and hungry as Sherlock dominated John with a show of tongue and teeth. The detective pulled back a little to gaze down at the man he loved, "You owe me…big," Sherlock informed him before claiming his mouth once more. These next two weeks would prove to be his biggest challenge.

**A/N: **Two author notes in one story, my aren't you guys lucky? Well, this is my first crack at a Sherlock fanfic to go along with the TV show so I hope I did alright. I have written a great many to accompany the amazing movie so I hope I did just as well with this one. Please let me know what you think! I am so excited to get reviews! I love them all so very much! Thanks so much for reading, be sure to stick around for all the thrilling details to come! Also, please excuse any errors, I wrote this very quickly while bored at work .


	2. Domestic

**Ripple  
>By<strong>: Raven612  
><strong>Chapter 2<strong>: Domestic  
><strong>Summary: <strong>The start to two weeks from hell. Already things have gone sour…for Sherlock that is.

**A/N: **So sorry that this took so long to update, but I have been so very distracted by other amazing fics. I am only hoping to be a fraction of amazing as some of the other authors out there. Please go on and read now and don't forget the review! Also check out scopesmonkey, agirlofthesouth, and skyfullofstars because they are all amazing and have some of thee best fics I have ever read; seriously!

There was something on his hips, something boney and weighing almost sixty pounds. Sherlock groaned and tried with his enormous brain powers to make the weight disappear because it sure as hell was not John wanting a morning triste. The giggles that came from the weight further proved that it was indeed, not John Watson. This only further served to piss Sherlock off. He cracked an eyelid and was greeted with golden curls and cornflower blue eyes.

"You're awake uncle Lock!" Annabelle greeted happily and flopped her torso on top of his now. Sherlock let out a rush of air.

"Yes, quite nice of you to notice, what are you doing in here?" he mumbled and opened his eyes fully now while shoving Anna off of himself. A chuckle sounded from the man next to him and Sherlock glared, "good, John is awake, bug him," Sherlock instructed the four year old girl and tipped his hips a little to deposit Anna on the bed between him and John.

John flipped over and his bright blue eyes met mirthful blue ones framed by golden curls, John grinned, "Good morning love, where is James?" he asked and lifted a hand to tuck the curls behind the little girl's ear and she giggled.

"He's making breakfast," she daftly informed him.

Sherlock sat up immediately, "He is not," he huffed not believing the words from the girl's mouth, but to prove him wrong something banged onto the kitchen floor, "bloody hell," he muttered and shoved the blankets off and got to his feet to investigate.

Annabelle giggled and sat up and looked down at John as he stretched and yawned, "James always makes mummy mad when he cooks," she informed the doctor before scooting herself across the bed and got to her feet.

"I'm sure he does," John added and sat up himself. He stretched his arms over his head again to ease the kinks and got to his feet as well. He shuffled out of the room after his skipping niece.

"John!" Came a shout from the kitchen, and John couldn't help the grin that spread over his lips. John was always utterly amused at Sherlock's interactions with his niece and nephew. They never failed to rub the great detective the wrong way whenever they were around, but John saw the underlying affection Sherlock always denied.

"What n-" John didn't finish when he came to the threshold of the kitchen, "What in God's name…" he trailed. There was a mess of flour and sugar everywhere including the four year old boy who struggled to get out of Sherlock's vice like grasp. "James!" John scolded and ignored Anna's giggles as he entered the kitchen only to promptly slip on a broken egg and land on his arse.

"That is only the beginning to your paying me back for this," Sherlock hissed and looked down at the boy now laughing manically at his side.

James couldn't stop the stomach rumbling laughter and it wasn't long before Anna joined in. John glowered at Sherlock and pulled himself to his feet and wiped the flour from his legs, "You look silly Uncle John," James pointed out, the flour dusting his face falling off in small wisps as he doubled over.

"I'm sure I do James, what were you thinking?" John asked the little boy in a calm and even tone. Of the two, James was the most sensitive and was prone to tears at the sound of any irate or angered voice.

The boy's merry smile dropped immediately and his bottom lip trembled and his head bowed down.

"Oh…perfect," Sherlock mumbled and turned away, he knew what would be coming and it annoyed him to no end. James would snivel and pout and John would give in.

"I'm sorry, really I am. I just wanted to make some pancakes and toast," he muttered, the thick accent of tears underlying his words.

John sighed and looked again at the ruined kitchen and didn't even flinch when Anna knocked another bowl from the counter. Sherlock's jaw twitched and he strode past them all, leaning in towards John as he passed he hissed, "They are not welcome."

John just shook his head and flinched when their bedroom door slammed. He smiled though and beckoned James to him, "Let's get you cleaned up then see what we can do with the kitchen, yeah?" John told the little boy and settled a gentle hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the bathroom, John looked over his shoulder, "come on Anna you too," he told her. The girl frowned and followed begrudgingly after them.

It took only an hour to clean the kitchen and not surprisingly it looked much better than usual. Silly how a giant mess can prompt one to clean something better than it had ever been before. John stood back and admired his work and dusted his hands off. Sherlock had still not made an appearance from the bedroom and John didn't expect him to, not without some special coaxing. After the kitchen had been situated John began making them all breakfast. He rummaged up what he could find to make pancakes; he even had some strawberries in the fridge to accompany the pancakes.

John looked at the clock as he flipped a pancake in the skillet and noted the time; 8AM. It wasn't an unpleasant hour, but still quite early from when he'd usually be up on a normal Saturday. At the thought his mouth opened in another wide yawn. Giggles erupted behind him and he scowled.

"Uncle John, are you sleepy?" Anna inquired in a sing-song tone with a wide grin on her face. Her blond ringlets were still damp as they hung to her small shoulders.

John shook his head, "No love," he answered her and walked over to the table and plopped a large pancake onto her plate. He looked across the table where James had nearly inhaled his own cake and sported a milk moustache; John grinned. He truly did have a fondness for children and because he knew Sherlock didn't, he'd never pushed the option of adoption. When Harry announced she and her wife were adopting, John viewed that as a way to vicariously have his own children as well, which Sherlock absolutely abhorred, or so he liked to make them all think.

"More," James announced and held up his empty plate sticky with syrup. John frowned and saw the boy had left his strawberries untouched.

"Eat your fruit, no more cakes," John answered and sipped at his tea. Anna giggled and stuck her tongue out her brother.

"Yeah James, don't be so greedy," she taunted and took a large bite of her pancake. James glared at her and suddenly he lurched himself across the table, fork aimed for her pancake.

John jumped when he saw the action and his tea spilled down his front. Anna started to scream and tried to poke her brother with her fork. John cursed under his breath as tea dripped down the front of his sleeping shirt and landed on his boxers. "James, Anna, enough!" he snapped and set his tea cup down with a sharp snap.

The twins stopped their wresting and looked up at John and blinked. James looked like he was about to cry and Anna was furious. Her pancake was hanging off of her plate and syrup was pooling on the table top. Anna was about to stick her finger in the goop and lick it, but John slapped her hand away, "Not wise," he mumbled not knowing what types of things Sherlock had on the table top in the past week.

"James off the table and Anna finish your breakfast," he told them sternly. His hands were on his hips as he watched them comply with his orders. Slowly James slid himself along the table until his feet reached his chair and he sat himself down again. He sat and blinked up at John. Anna, defiant as ever, stuck her tongue out again at James and grabbed one of his strawberry slices and ate it.

"Hey," James pouted and pointed to Anna, "she took my strawberry," he whined in a high pitched I'll-get-whatever-I-want voice.

John sighed; he had turned away from them and was at the sink attempting to clean the mess from his shirtfront. He didn't bother to look at the twins, "Anna hands to yourself and James eat your fruit before Anna can get at it," he told them before joining them at the table again.

Anna shot John a glare and continued to eat her pancake, syrup and crumbs clinging to the area surrounding her mouth. John sighed, but smiled nonetheless. He did enjoy his niece and nephew but it was still hard work to take care of them, but then again John had a lot of substantial training with Sherlock; he equaled at least three or four small and stubborn little children. John sighed as he leaned back in his chair with his new cup of tea and watched Anna and James finish up their breakfast. Once both children were satisfied he cleaned the table while they scrambled over each other to the living room to watch morning telly. John quickly did the dishes and fixed a tray for Sherlock, it was an apology of sorts and John hoped it would be received positively by the sulking detective. He picked up the tray and moved out of the kitchen and through the living room making his way towards the room he shared with Sherlock. He glanced over his shoulder at the children.

"Behave now, I've got to cheer up Sherlock," he told them with a stern look that told them they better be quiet and stay exactly where they were.

Anna and James grinned and nodded their heads. It was a wonder what morning cartoons could do for such small humans. John smirked. Judging by the show currently on, he had one hour until they would grow restless and bored. He came upon the closed door of the bedroom and had to hold the tray with one hand while opening the door. He nudged it with his hip and walked into the room. He kicked the door closed behind him. Sherlock's back greeted him.

"I know you are not a fan of having the kids here, but I couldn't turn Harry down," John explained as he scooted the tray of breakfast onto the table on his side of the bed. He sat himself down and scooted onto the bed.

Sherlock did not acknowledge him. He continued to glare daggers into the wall. He was acting childish, and he knew it. He would not speak to John until he removed the two menaces from his home. John recognized this behavior and he knew just what to do to make Holmes melt. John grinned and scooted towards Sherlock. He knelt next to the man's shoulders and bent down. John's lips were a mere whisper from Sherlock's ear; his hot breath cascaded in gentle wisps against the pale shell.

"Sherlock Holmes," John whispered. The doctor's lips just barely moved against Sherlock's ear, and the detective put up a valiant battle to repress the shiver that traveled down his spine.

"John Watson," he growled, yet he refused to face the doctor. No; he'd make the man work for it.

John smirked, and his tongue snaked from inside his mouth to taste the outer shell of Sherlock's ear. The detective made a low rumbling deep in his throat; John felt it stir in his groin. "I swear that voice is tied directly to…" John trailed as his hands slid gently over Sherlock's shoulders and followed lean muscle to his chest down to his taut stomach; the continual moving of his hands made him have to lean against Sherlock's back with his erection pressing into him and his fingertips just breached the waistband of Sherlock's pajama pants, "_my_ cock."

Sherlock could not handle it when John spoke in a low and heady tone and threw out explicit words like cock. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut trying to make his body shut the bloody hell _up_! His fists tightened on his elbows, and with a swift movement he had flipped around to face John. He lifted himself and crashed his lips into John's, "God I bloody _hate_ you," he murmured as his fingers made quick work of the clothes John was wearing.

**A/N: **How very rude of me to just tease you all like that! Guess that means you'll have to continue to stick around and read the sure smut that is just around the corner along with the continued antics of James and Annabelle…but oh…things are not going to be peachy on Baker Street….oh no, with happiness comes sadness. Please review and don't mind obvious grammar errors…I so need a beta . Anyways, please review and let me know what you think or what you might want to see ^.^


	3. Bloody Hell

**Ripple  
>By<strong>: Raven612  
><strong>Chapter 3<strong>: Bloody Hell  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Sometimes Sherlock sees fit to take care of matters his own way, even if John doesn't agree.

**A/N: **Again so sorry it took so long to update . my fault, just been so tired lately and my computer has been a bit irky with me . anyways, onwards into the continued saga of extended babysitting. As always, reviews are much loved and can prove to be very good motivators ^.^

***Day 2 of Hell***

"Sherlock you didn't honestly bring these home with serious intentions did you?" John's voice was a schooled tone of control, but Holmes could still hear the underlying annoyance. He didn't have to look up to know what John was talking about so he continued to skim over the news article he was reading.

"Never take me lightly John," was his only reply as he set the paper on the table and turned the page. He flinched back, however, when a glob of oatmeal landed right in the middle of the page. Sherlock narrowed his gaze and looked up. His stormy grey eyes met laughing cornflower blue ones.

"Uncle Lock you didn't eat yet," Anna happily announced and scraped her spoon along the edge of her bowl in an attempt to scoop up a hefty bite for her brooding uncle.

"Brilliant," he sighed and snapped the paper shut and left it lie on the table. He raised his head to settle his gaze upon John who sat across from him with James seated on one of his knees. Sherlock shot a glare at the small child and had to fight the flame of jealousy; really, it was uncalled for.

"Sherlock," John warned, his voice was wavering dangerously now and Sherlock only smirked as his gaze finally settled on the brochures John was holding.

"It would be a logical action," he suggested with a raised brow and settled his chin on steeped fingers.

"Wha…Sherlock, really!" John was flustered now. He slapped the papers onto the table which caused James to flinch away from the sound. John sighed and leaned into the boy and whispered something comforting into the boy's ear. Sherlock glared again as he reached forward to crumple the ruined paper and ducked to avoid a spoon of oatmeal coming towards him from Anna.

"When people with dogs go on long vacations they take their pets to a boarding house, why can't Harry take the…things to an orphanage until they return?" And this statement, in all of its absurdity sounded quite logical to the world's only consulting detective.

John floundered like a fish out of water and his whole face began to turn red, oh, a bit not good…not good at all. Sherlock almost wanted to shrink back into his chair to get as far as possible from the doctor's apparent anger, but John didn't get to be angry, Sherlock did.

A fit of giggles sounded from Sherlock's immediate left, "Uncle John you're turning into a tomato," Anna observed and dropped her spoon into her bowl to clutch her stomach in a fit of laughter.

John's gaze broke from Sherlock's to light on his niece and his temper petered out as fast as it had come on. John smirked and shook his head. He lifted his left hand and rubbed it over his face, "Thanks Anna, finish breakfast now so we can get to the shops before the morning rush," he instructed her and settled his gaze back on Sherlock.

Sherlock kept his chin firmly on his steeped fingers and he smirked and titled his head just slightly to his left, "Think about it?"

John just snorted and shook his head. He shifted his weight slightly and removed James from his knee and set him on the floor. "No Sherlock and that is the absolute end of this absurd discussion," his voice held an air of finality to it and over the years Sherlock had learned to chose his battles with the doctor wisely. Sherlock huffed and sank back into his chair with a dull thud. He'd store this petty battle into his folder of things to use against John in the future and scowled.

Anna, on Sherlock's left, stood in her chair and launched herself at the detective and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sherlock made a noise and reached out and grabbed the table to settle him so that he didn't topple over in his chair. He absolutely despised children, especially ones with blond curls and blue eyes that always seemed to be watching him. He made a grumbling noise deep in his throat and turned his head to look at the little girl. According to John Annabelle had a 'crush' on Sherlock so that was why she always put herself into his space and made random jumps and grabs at him. Sherlock found it annoying and detestable. John had a grin on his face across the table where he had begun to pick up the morning dishes.

"Uncle Lock, can't you bring me to the park today?" she whined as Sherlock extricated himself from her grabby hands.

"No," he said as he grabbed his phone and turned on his heel, his blue silk robe sweeping out behind him like a cape as he walked to he and John's shared room.

John sighed, someday he knew Sherlock would come around, but it didn't seem to be coming soon enough. "Alright, come on Anna, let's clean up and get to the shops then we can go to the park," he told the girl and held his hand out for her. Anna frowned as she moved towards John and took his hand.

"Why is Uncle Lock so loony?" she asked and tipped her head back to look up at John.

John smiled fondly, "It's just how he is dear, someday he may change, but until then we just have to be patient," John told her as they entered the bathroom; James brining up the rear. John then started the process of washing up the twins and getting them dressed for the day. It was Sunday and he still hadn't quite figured out what to do with the twins come Monday when he had to go back to work. He sighed and had the frightening thought he might have to leave them in Sherlock's very incapable hands. He shuddered at the thought.

John sighed for the eighth time in as many minutes. Anna was refusing to go anywhere without her Uncle Lock along. She rooted herself next to the couch where Sherlock was curled facing the back of the sofa. Anna had grabbed a hold of Sherlock's silk robe and pulled demanding he get up and join them. Sherlock, for his part, had not moved or acknowledged her.

"Anna, love, he's not going to budge," John muttered and reached his hand out for her.

"No!" She snapped and shied away from John again and started to pull on Sherlock's robe again, "C'mon Uncle Lock, ," she had moved closer and bent herself over the detective's ear now hoping to get more of a reaction from him, and it seemed to work because he shot up like an arrow then.

"ALRIGHT, all bloody right!" he snapped and pulled his robe out of her fingers and shot her a murderous glare.

Anna grinned and stepped back, "Yay," she clapped and then returned to John's side. The doctor chuckled and shook his head, God help him.

James fidgeted on John's other side and cocked his head to watch Sherlock's tall and muttering figure go into the bedroom to change, "Does he have to come?" the little boy asked with a frown, his head tipped back and looked up at the doctor.

John forced a smile and ruffled his fingers through James' short dirty blond locks, "Don't worry, I'm sure your sister will have him more than occupied," John reassured; the poor little boy was frightened of the stoic detective and John really couldn't blame him given James' more timid disposition.

It was thirty minutes later that found the group finally leaving the flat and stepping out into the mildly chilled early April air. John grinned as he pulled a deep breath in through his nose and, without looking, reached over and slapped Sherlock's phone shut. He didn't turn his head to look at the detective because he could feel the glare the pale man was shooting at him. Sherlock muttered under his breath as he stepped forward, Anna mirroring his moves, and hailed a cab. Sherlock raised a brow and turned his head to look down at her; she beamed up at him.

"Joh-"

"No," John said quickly as he ushered the kids into the cab, but before Sherlock could bend in John pulled him down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, "thank you," he whispered quickly before getting in.

Sherlock, despite his sour mood, smirked and flicked his tongue out to gather the remaining tastes of John clinging to his lips. He was sure John knew that later tonight he'd be showing Sherlock just how thankful he was. So it was, with these thoughts, that Sherlock was able to survive the majority of the day with one of the two terrors.

Sherlock knew that he should have stayed home, he knew it and yet he didn't. He was seething inwardly while Anna skipped a few paces ahead of him. He was royally pissed off when John took James and a shopping list down one sidewalk while he gave Sherlock a smaller list and ordered him and Anna down another path. Sherlock looked down at his list. It didn't consist of much, and actually it was a list of his own things he needed to pick up; dry cleaning, various chemical cleaners for an experiment, some lab equipment, and a new scarf.

"Uncle Lock, how come you and Uncle John don't have kids?" Anna asked as she came skipping back to him and forced him to take her hand.

"Because I find them distasteful," he muttered and pulled her into the dry cleaners.

Anna giggled and swung his arm, "No you don't Uncle Lock," she shot back.

Sherlock didn't want to get into it with her so he ignored her comment and went up to the counter to collect his things. He let her hand go and generally didn't pay her any mind as he dealt with the woman behind the counter. Sherlock was just gathering his shirts together when a loud crash sounded behind him. He hunched his shoulders and closed his eyes with a sigh. The girl behind the counter blinked wide eyes and slowly turned her gaze onto Sherlock. Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he turned to face the little girl who was covered completely in white powder. Anna blinked then sneezed.

"Right…we'll be going now," he muttered and marched towards the door leaving the little girl covered in washing detergent to scramble to catch him.

"Uncle Lock," she whined as she tried to brush the hideously scented soap from her hair and clothes sneezing again.

Sherlock ignored her and pulled his phone out again and glared at it. He'd sent Lestrade a text earlier that was practically begging the DI to bring him into any case…_any _case at all, but the Detective Inspector hadn't responded to him. Sherlock could not remain in the flat much longer with the twins and keep hold of the very little sanity he even had to begin with. Only the thought of what he would make John do to pay him back for these two weeks kept Sherlock following the skipping figure of Anna as they made their rounds to the rest of the shops.

It was early evening when the two groups met up again. By this point Sherlock had removed himself from the present to deal with the hyper girl and her incessant babble that it was a miracle he didn't grab John and pin him against the nearest wall for a quick shag. It was a wonder how much just an afternoon made Sherlock miss his partner. A smile did ghost over his lips when he saw John and James coming towards them, but John's attention was on James who had a quickly melting ice cream cone. Sherlock glared and steeled his shoulders preparing for what was sure to happen next.

Anna honed in immediately on the fact that her brother had an ice cream cone, she reached up and grabbed Sherlock's arm with both of her hands and tugged, "Uncle Lock, James got ice cream, how come I didn't get one?" she whined; just as Sherlock knew she would.

He didn't acknowledge her; instead he focused a glare on John just as he looked up and smiled at them. Sherlock allowed himself a small moment of gloating when he saw the doctor's smile falter upon seeing his glare.

"How did it go?" John asked as he and James finally approached the duo.

Sherlock gave him a look, "Horrid," he muttered and stepped around the trio to hail a cab.

John frowned and looked down at Anna who had a glare on her face, "I don't like him any more Uncle John, you're my favorite," she announced and held her hand up for John to take.

John chuckled and shook his head, "I'm sorry to hear that love," John tried to comfort her a little, then his nose wrinkled as he caught a whiff of an overly sweet odor, "Sherlock," he turned to the detective as a cab pulled up to the curb, "what is that horrid smell?"

"No need to bathe Anna tonight John," Sherlock said and flashed him a smirk as he bent his tall frame into the cab and left a baffled John on the curb with two small children. Oh…John would spend his remaining lifetime paying Sherlock back for this; of this Sherlock was sure.

**A/N: **So there it is day two, day three shall be more exciting because it is the first day Sherlock will have the twins all alone and day three I shall start making hints of what is to come in the next few chapters because Moriarty is not sleeping, oh no, he's still there…just hiding and biding his time. Please review and let me know what you think…I have no beta and no one to Brit-pick soooo I hope it's okay :/ Let me know!


	4. Never a Good Idea

**Ripple  
>By<strong>: Raven612  
><strong>Chapter 4<strong>: Never a Good Idea  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Sherlock digs himself deeper yet and John can't believe how dense the man can be sometimes.

**A/N: **Awwws, this story gets a lot of action but no reviews. This makes me a sad panda because I don't know if you all are liking it or not. I hope you all are I want it to be cute and fun before the real fun begins. So stick around, I promise to turn up the drama soon my pretties….but like everything Jim does, he does it perfectly.

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><p><strong>*Day 3 of Hell*<strong>

Sherlock looked at his phone again. He growled low in his throat. Now of all times Lestrade tells him he needs him; now when Sherlock is alone with the twins. He is alone. With. The. Twins. As in there is no John around to keep them entertained. Sherlock is solo and has been summoned; the one thing John explicitly told him he could not do. Sherlock frowns. He is debating; bring the twins to a crime scene and face John's wrath or sit and suffer. Of course Sherlock chooses option A. He will not sit in the flat with the twins while Lestrade has asked him to help in a triple…not single or even double, but triple homicide. This is _absolutely_ something Sherlock cannot pass up. He lifts his head and blinks. How in the bloody hell had he even gotten himself into this mess…he fell in love with John…that's how. He sighed and steeped his fingers under his chin as he replays the conversation he and John had the previous night.

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><p><em>Sherlock buries his face between John's shoulder and neck taking his skin between his teeth eliciting a moan from John. His long fingers glide down John's sweat slicked torso and trace lazy patterns around hard muscle. Sherlock grins; he truly does love his army man and appreciates the upkeep John does with his body. Sherlock flicks his tongue over the reddened skin on John's neck as his fingers dip below the waistband of his pajama pants.<em>

_ "Sherlock I…I know what…ahhh," John attempted to turn the conversation back onto its original path because he knew Sherlock was attempting to distract him._

_ "I said you can take them to their daycare," Sherlock growled and slipped his hand into John's pants to cup his very obvious erection._

_ John hissed and his hips bucked, "And I told you their daycare isn't open tomorrow…I…I don't like the idea of leaving them with you either but it's only one day," John murmured into Sherlock's curls between kisses._

_ Sherlock growls and lifts himself to look into John's blue eyes, "No," he states simply before lowering his lips onto John's. John attempts to pull away but there is nowhere for his head to go but deeper into his pillow. Sherlock's tongue pokes out and traces the seam of John's lips begging for entrance. John opens, he can't deny Sherlock anything in his haze of sex._

_ "Ah…but Sherlock…" John loses his train of thought for a moment when he feels Sherlock's fingers wrap around his length._

_ "Yes John, your bum is rather divine," Sherlock purred and pulled on John's ear lobe and licked the outer shell as his fingers began to move slowly around John's length._

_ John sucked in a deep breath as his hips began to react of their own accord to Sherlock's fingers. John brought his fingers to tangle in Sherlock's hair and he tugged on the black curls, "Th-this changes nothing Sherlock…the…the kids will stay with you tomorrow," John huffed quickly._

_ Sherlock growled and bit his shoulder rather hard to draw a gasp from John and feel his fingers tighten even more in his curls, "I'll give them a shelter," Sherlock promised as he kissed his way back to John's mouth._

_ John smirked, "You care for them Sherlock," John countered and flicked his tongue over Sherlock's lips and nipped gently with his front teeth._

_ Sherlock growled and lowered his lips to press heavily against John's and their tongue started their familiar tango. John's well practiced muscle attempted to assert its dominance but Sherlock was fighting back with gusto. John's hands gently left Sherlock's hair to trail down his spine. He grabbed two handfuls of pale globes and squeezed them. Sherlock hummed into John's mouth while his hands moved to grip the doctor's hips and pulled them up to grind against his. Sparks flew as their erect cocks rubbed against each other. Sherlock swallowed a moan from John and plunged his hips down against John's._

_ "God Sherlock," John hissed as he broke the kiss to suck along Sherlock's jaw._

_ Sherlock grinned, he loved making his doctor talk dirty, something about the way it rolled off of John's tongue made Sherlock's nerves ignite, "One condition," Sherlock whispered breathlessly as he reached over to their bedside table and grabbed the bottle of lube._

_ John managed to squeeze one eye open to look at the detective, he gave one last sound suck to Sherlock's neck before pulling back a little, "What?" he asked in a rush of air._

_ Sherlock grinned as he scrambled back from John to sit on his knees. He squeezed a generous amount of lube into his palm. He capped the bottle again and tossed it in the general direction of their table. John glared. Sherlock smirked and leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to the doctor's lips. Sherlock began to rub the lube over his palms then lowered his hands to John's throbbing member. He coated John's cock generously and paid extra attention to the sensitive head. Once Sherlock was satisfied with his lube job he crawls back up John's body. Sherlock lifts himself over John's member and guides the tip of John's cock against his tight hole._

_ "I will not be blamed should anything go wrong with the terrors," Sherlock finally answered as he sat himself on John's cock._

_ John gasped and arched his neck as he felt himself enter the tight hot hole of Sherlock. He squeezed his eyes and mouth shut sure to quiet his screams of ecstasy for the sake of the children. Sherlock smirked and pulled himself up John's length and slams back down. He lets out a moan before falling forward. His long arms wind around John's torso and he hugs the doctor close to him as he begins to rock his hips._

_ "Sh-Sh…Sherlock," John sputters as his hands come to grip the detective's hips to help control the hard rhythm Sherlock seems intent to set. Slowly one of John's hands slides from Sherlock's hips to grip the detective's length. Sherlock let out a moan and buried his head between John's shoulder and neck. He began to nibble and lick the skin there. _

_ "I am…n-not responsible," Sherlock groaned and slammed his hips down on John._

_ John groaned and lifted his hips in response and pressed his thumb against the center of Sherlock's head and swirled. Sherlock whimpered and his hips bucked, this action caused John's cock to scrape Sherlock's prostate and the detective had to bite down on John's neck to keep from crying out too loud. John grinned and tightened his fingers around Sherlock's cock and ran his fingers just under the hood of Sherlock's engorged head. He then trailed his index finger down the vein on the underside of the shaft and kept going to Sherlock's sac. John loved to play with Sherlock, it was about the only way the doctor could get an ounce of control over the highly intelligent detective._

_ "You ah….are e-ent….entirely responsible," John answered with a thrust of his hips into Sherlock. Sherlock growled in response and rolled his hips. John gasped and Sherlock quickly placed his lips over John's so that he could taste him. John arched his back violently from the bed, he could feel the familiar tightening of his stomach as he began to thrust harder into Sherlock._

_ Sherlock grinned at John's admission and slammed his hips down to meet John's as they rose. Time for talking had ceased. Sherlock groaned and his entire body shuddered as it too came close to his release. John's hand continued to move over his hard cock. The doctor could feel how close Sherlock was to orgasm and traced his thumb nail very gently along the underside of the detective's cock and swirled it around the sensitive head catching the precum dripping there. John smirked when he felt Sherlock bite his neck to keep a loud moan hidden. John tilted his neck away to open it up more to Sherlock's searching mouth and tongue. John had to bite his own lip as a spasm moved through his abdomen and through his cock buried inside of Sherlock. He grunted and his free hand bit into Sherlock's hip and he slammed the detectives arse down onto him and John surged up to meet him._

_ Sherlock moaned deep in his chest and lifted his head to rest his lips over John's to swallow his moans and gasps as the doctor began to come. John's eyes squeezed shut and his hips arched violently into Sherlock as he lost himself completely in a haze of sex. Sherlock, in response, pressed his lips hard to John's and swiveled his tongue around the doctor's as his own hips began to move of their own accord. It was only moments after John began to come that he felt himself emptying onto John's chest. Sherlock moaned into John's mouth and explored the inside of John's mouth and savored the tastes there before collapsing, still connected, onto the doctor._

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><p>Sherlock glared at the DI. Lestrade was currently ranting and raving but none of his words penetrated Sherlock's ears. Sherlock was also vaguely aware of Annabelle and James somewhere behind the police tape with a gaping Sally Donovan. Sherlock smirked before focusing on Lestrade.<p>

"You have gone sodding mad Sherlock," Lestrade huffed with a glare.

Sherlock shrugged boredly and snapped the rubber gloves over his fingers, "And you still have no brain, now show me the bodies," he demanded and flashed the DI a quick smile, one Lestrade had come to call the; I'm-a-smartass-and-you're-the-butt-of-all-my-jokes smile.

Lestrade sighed and nodded as he motioned Sherlock to follow him into the house. It was a moderately sized house located a few miles outside of the city. It had been vacant for years…economy and all that, and had served as a perfect dumping grounds and party spot. Sherlock sniffed as a faint smell of alcohol and recreational drugs wafted into his nostrils. He knew Lestrade couldn't pick up the smell and it was irrelevant so he didn't bring it up. Sherlock followed Lestrade to the second floor where three bodies lay. They were all face down and all female. They barely wore any clothes and were arranged in a triangle. Sherlock raised a brow; interesting. Even more interesting was the note written in blood on the floor inside of the bodies.

_'Our brothers and sisters have gone mad!'_

Sherlock raised a brow. His mind cranked trying to decipher what the message meant. He turned to Lestrade, "See if any of the women had brothers or sisters and then check their medical records," he told the detective inspector who quickly jotted a note.

Sherlock crouched down and looked over each woman. They were all wearing low cut dresses with high hem lines. Clearly they showed their assets. Sherlock then noted the slight traces of blood pooled under each woman. He turned one and saw that her entire front was brutally slashed. He furrowed his brows; Lestrade made a noise behind him and looked at the wall. Sherlock sighed and placed the body back as it had been. He rocked back to rest on his heels and glanced back at Lestrade, "Serial killer. Looks like he's targeting call girls, modern day Jack the Ripper…boring," Sherlock stated and swiftly moved to his feet and removed his gloves.

"Modern day Jack the Ripper…original," Lestrade sighed as his forensic team moved in.

Sherlock glared at Anderson as he passed, "Try not to get too excited Anderson…we don't need your DNA contaminating the scene…then again…" Sherlock trailed as his gaze slid to Sally who scowled.

"I-"

"Anderson," Lestrade warned before the two got into a regular pissing match.

Sherlock smirked and threw his gloves into a trash bin and pulled out his phone as he started to walk away, "He may have adopted the persona of Jack the Ripper but this man is upper class. Each of these women were high end call girls. They don't come cheap and you have to pay up front."

Anderson snorted, "So is that how Sherlock gets his kicks then?"

Sherlock snapped his head up, "At least I get my 'kicks' Anderson, lord knows sergeant Donovan must be getting boring by now," he shot back as he scrolled through a few different links on his phone looking through different call girl sites. Sherlock was just scrolling through a few links when he heard the most distinguishable sound coming up the stairs.

"Anna we were supposed to stay in the car," James scolded as he tromped up the stairs.

"Well I'm bored," Anna shot back.

Everyone in the room seemed to have frozen for a few seconds. Sherlock paled even more as the twins stepped into the room. Sally and Anderson seemed to react the quickest and moved to stand in front of the bodies. Lestrade was the third and moved forward.

"Anna, James, you two were told explicitly to stay in the car," Lestrade frowned and started to usher the children out of the room.

Anna's eyes went huge when she saw the feet of one of the women, "Ohhhhh, is that a dead body?" she asked excitedly and tried to duck Lestrade's arms.

Sherlock shook his head and scowled. He pocketed his phone and grabbed Anna as she tried to run past. Lestrade held James who looked petrified, "You two are insufferable," Sherlock huffed and strode towards the door while Anna wiggled against his hip trying to get free.

"But I wanna see," she pouted and kicked her feet.

Sally smirked, "Corrupting the future Sherlock?" she sneered and Anderson chuckled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and didn't turn around, "Oh please Sally, it's not like your offspring or God forbid Anderson's need walk the earth," he stated and set Anna on her feet next to Lestrade who had dropped James.

"I'm sorry Uncle Lock..s-she made me," the boy stammered and looked about ready to cry.

Sherlock looked down at Anna who was still staring towards the bodies, he sighed and grabbed her arm and held his hand down to James, "No matter we're all in trouble anyways," Sherlock mumbled and tugged the children back downstairs. John would not be happy about this, but for the moment Sherlock couldn't seem to care, it was his fault anyways.

Anna looked up at Sherlock, she seemed impervious to what she had just seen, "Uncle Lock, what's it mean…that saying written on the floor?" she asked him.

Sherlock stopped walking and looked down at her, "H-how did you see that?" he asked her, she hadn't possibly gotten close enough to see it; hade she?

Anna grinned, "Before Sally and Anderson moved I saw it…they didn't move quickly enough, did you see it too James?" she asked as she bounced around them.

James frowned and turned even more ashen, "Shut up Anna," he snapped.

"You two weren't supposed to see anything…John is going to kill me," he muttered and shot his glare at Anna.

Anna grinned, "But it was boring Uncle Lock, I didn't want to sit in the police car," she retorted.

"You won't be coming back or to another crime scene again so count your blessings," he sighed and moved to the curb as they reached the main street.

"Good, I don't ever want to," James said and seemed to sigh with relief.

"Awwwww," Anna groaned and crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders; "we never get to have fun."

Sherlock smirked as he hailed a cab, "Precisely," he said and opened the door for the twins to get in.

Anna glared and stuck her tongue out at him as she climbed in and James followed after. Sherlock sucked in a deep breath before climbing in himself. This was terrible. There was a serial killer targeting call girls, possibly the most exciting case since the bombings with Moriarty months ago, and Sherlock was stuck with two of the biggest mind blocks known to man. Already he felt a headache beginning to throb just behind his eyes, he would have to have a talk with John when he got home from the surgery, there was absolutely no way Sherlock could solve this and figure out the message if he had the twins surrounding him at every turn.

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><p><strong>AN: **So here we see the beginnings of a rather interesting case. I think I may have had a stroke of brilliance. Also, see if any of you guys can figure out the meaning of the message, I'll give you a hint, it deal with the title of a novel which is also a movie, though the book is so much more graphic! We'll see how our detective does with this case and see if he figures out the messages that accompany the bodies. Anywhose, let me know what you all thought, also I thought you all deserved a bit of a lemon Also, this was supposed to get posted on Monday but had a few things pop up . stupid life hehe, anyways, since it didn't get up Monday, I shall be sure to have two additional chapters up by Sunday! Please review and let me know what you all think! Thanks for reading! Again no beta or Brit pick so I apologize for any mistakes in the story.


	5. Puzzle Pieces

**Ripple**

**By: **Raven612

**Chapter 5: **Puzzle Pieces

**Summary: **Lestrade has found some interesting information and Moriarty begins to taunt Sherlock.

**A/N: ** I am so very sorry that updating this story has taken so long! My laptop is still being repaired. I am lost without it, but I could not hold back any longer so I broke down and am using my parent's laptop to update. The twins really are a terror and they needed to get out again. Well, enough of that go on and read and please review! As an author reviews are my life's blood!

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><p><strong>*Evening of day 3*<strong>

John's face very nearly resembled a plump tomato, Sherlock thought as he sat in his chair staring up at his partner. John hadn't been home for more than ten minutes before Anna, whom had pinkie promised Sherlock she'd never tell John, spilled her guts to her uncle. Needless to say, John was furious.

"You took them to a crime scene, they saw the bodies, and how is that okay in your mind?" the doctor snapped. He was keeping his voice, or was attempting to keep his voice even so that he didn't frighten the children, but Sherlock figured he had about two more minutes until he lost control of the pitch.

Sherlock kept his face a well schooled mask of indifference, he really didn't see why John was so upset, he tilted his head to the side; he was still trying to decipher the message with the bodies.

"Sherlock! Do not tune me out," John ordered and stepped into the consulting detective's personal space.

Sherlock finally rolled his head and blinked as he looked up at John, "Oh please John, you've observed them now since you've been home, do they seem to be suffering any ill effects?" he asked with a raised brow and a slight smirk.

John gaped and blinked before he seemed to regain his speech, "Wh-how is that even relevant…they are only four years old and they saw murder victims!"

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, he really didn't like when the doctor felt the need to repeat details over and over again, "Obviously I know their ages John, give them more credit. James didn't see a thing; he's much too afraid to and Anna…well she's inquisitive and adventurous and she didn't see…much," Sherlock offered hoping to at least appease the shorter man standing before him. He even added a smile; John usually seemed to like his smiles.

A smile didn't seem to work this time. John's lips drew tight over his teeth before he turned away from Sherlock, "You just don't understand the principle of the situation Sherlock. Little kids are not equipped mentally to handle traumatic images like that," the doctor sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face as he deflated onto the sofa.

Sherlock forced himself not to roll his eyes. He turned his head to look over at John, the doctor seemed to have given up the battle and Sherlock was not in the mood to continue so he didn't respond to John. He let a comfortable silence hang between them for a moment as he pulled a picture of the bodies and the message up on his phone. He glanced over to John, he seemed more relaxed now. Sherlock sat up and held his phone out, "What do you make of this?" he asked quietly; testing the waters as it were.

John's head snapped up and around to look at Sherlock. He opened his mouth to make a comment, but shut it and took the phone. He turned it to face him and tilted his head. He scrolled through the pictures Sherlock had. He flinched a bit seeing the carnage and then handed it back. Sherlock raised a brow.

"Well it looks like what you said; modern day Jack the Ripper…besides that I'm not sure what's meant by the message. Has Lestrade contacted you about the women and their families?" John asked and flicked his gaze towards the kitchen where the twins were coloring and waiting for supper.

Sherlock frowned, "Not yet but I'm expecting him to any minute now. I sent him the names and profiles of the three women. They have nothing in common there. Two of them worked for the same agency. Outside of that, depending on the family histories, there isn't much to go on besides the message."

John nodded, "I don't know why you even ask me anymore about what I see Sherlock…obviously I'm not going to see everything you do," he mumbled.

Sherlock frowned and pocketed his phone, he hated when John decided to take himself down a peg. "I disagree John. You do see things, things I can sometimes look over. You pick out the obvious where I look for the deeper things. Sometimes it's the obvious that I miss because I want to dive too deep. Besides John…you're still a mystery to me," Sherlock told him with a grin and rose from his chair. He walked over to where the doctor sat on the sofa. He bent at his hips and pressed a light kiss to John's lips before straightening again. He ran his fingers through John's hair.

John breathed out contently and closed his eyes for a moment, "Thank you Sherlock," he breathed and smiled.

Sherlock grinned again and nearly jumped as the vibrations from his pocket startled him. He pulled his hand back from John and turned as he checked the message from Lestrade. He frowned and furrowed his brows.

John rose from the sofa and moved to stand a few feet from Sherlock, he knew the look on his face; it was when he received information that didn't seem to line up in his brain, "So, what did Lestrade find?"

Sherlock tapped out a quick reply and turned to John, "Well it's not what I had expected, but each of the girls had an older sibling who now lives in America. Odd, to be linked by a sibling who lives in America, but what about going crazy, where does that tie in?" Sherlock began to pace.

John smiled. He recognized this; this was when Sherlock was in full deduction mode. Nothing could interrupt him now. With a slight shake of his head John turned to leave the man to do what he did best.

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><p>Anna looked up from her picture as her uncle entered the kitchen. She grinned at him, "Uncle John, look what I drew," she called to him and set her pink crayon down.<p>

John, thankful for the distraction, moved to stand next to her so that he could examine what she had drawn. He tilted his head as he attempted to make out the childish drawing. It more or less looked like a bunch of scribbles. He furrowed his brows, "It looks exquisite Anna dear," he told her and flashed a smile.

Anna looked up at him and frowned, "You don't even know what it is!" she protested with a 'humph.'

James snickered and snuck a peek at his sister's drawing, "It looks stupid," he retorted and set his blue crayon down.

Anna glared at him and picked up her pink crayon again, "It does not, it's a picture of Mother and Mummy," she snapped and added something to her picture.

James snorted and reached over with his blue crayon to add a scribble, "It's ugly," he teased.

John quickly took their crayons as he could see where this was headed, "James, Anna, we are not going to start a fight at the kitchen table over colors. Both of your pictures are wonderful. Go wash up while I clean up your mess," he instructed them and shooed them away before they could snatch up any other colors and begin marking each other.

"Is not a stupid picture, you're stupid," Anna said in protest as she slid down from her chair and stuck her tongue out.

"Am not!" James snapped with a frown and jumped from his chair.

"I said no fighting," John reminded them sternly as he put the crayons back into their boxes.

James and Anna shot him a glare before leaving the room. They continued to bicker as they went to the bathroom.

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><p>Sherlock paid no mind to the goings on in the kitchen because he had bigger fish to fry. He'd pulled a few books from his shelf and scrolled through a few different sites but couldn't seem to come up with much to help decipher the message. He sighed and rubbed his hands through his curls. He looked around the flat hoping that something would just appear to help him. All three women had a sibling in America. <em>'Brothers and sisters'<em> must obviously mean America as in the country, but what about the going mad bit. America was at war but so were other countries. This didn't seem to be a terrorist attack, so what then? Sherlock growled low in his throat as he paced and suddenly he heard a chime. His head shot up. He hadn't heard that particular noise in months. He quickly looked around the flat to make sure John wasn't around. Sherlock scrambled over to the mantel and lifted the skull. He picked up the pink phone. He had one new text message. He opened it.

_Wonder how long it will take you to figure this out Sherlock; didn't take you for the type to play house either. I've just been reading a rather interesting book of late and thought you might like it as well :)  
><em>**JM**

Sherlock blinked. The killings were based off of a book. His brows furrowed. He set the phone back down and started to scan his shelves. He had only one book on Jack the Ripper so he pulled it down. He went to his armchair and plopped down. He hadn't read the book. It was a gift from one of his former clients. He didn't particularly find the book or the man intriguing. He started on the first page and started to scan for anything to do with America.

An hour later and Sherlock still had nothing substantial to go on, just that the author if the book suggested that an American doctor who was also a painter is highly suspected of committing the heinous crimes. Somehow Sherlock didn't think Moriarty….no; correction, Sherlock _knew _Moriarty wouldn't copy Jack; it was too pedestrian. Sherlock snapped the book shut and tossed it over his shoulder, and sank his elbows to his knees. He clutched either side of his head in frustration. There are literally thousands and thousands of books Moriarty could be reading and gleaning his inspiration from. Sherlock cursed himself up and down for not being able to think of one single book he could go to out of the many he had logged in his hard-drive.

"You look like how I feel when working on a case with you," John muttered as he slid a plate of bangers and mash on the table next to Sherlock.

Sherlock glared at the floor, "Why can't I bloody well figure out his message?" he snapped.

John slid a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze, "Eat your dinner Sherlock, the answer will come to you, it always does," John reassured him before walking back to the kitchen to make sure the twins kept their potatoes on their plates and not on themselves or the kitchen.

Sherlock had reached one conclusion. He would venture to the local bookstore and find whatever books he could on American serial killers. Obviously Moriarty was inspired by a man…or woman that killed prostitutes. The killer would have to be wealthy and above average intelligence to snag the interest of one James Moriarty. Sherlock pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped out a message to Lestrade. He would need to see the reports on the women's siblings in the states. He wanted to know if they were scattered about or living in the same area. Sherlock was pretty confident that the siblings were living in the same area, but he needed to be sure. After he was sure of this he could begin searching for the right book.

* * *

><p>"Uncle John look, I need to start shaving just like you and Uncle Lock!" Anna cheered as she pointed to the foamy beard she gave herself with the bubble bath.<p>

John smirked, "That's quite the beard Anna dear, what have you been eating?" he teased and eased himself back to rest on the balls of his feet in his crouched position next to the tub.

James finished constructing a hat and grinned as he turned to John, "Lookit Uncle John, I could be a cabbie! Or a firefighter or a policeman!" James announced and clapped his hands.

Anna frowned and swiped her hand through James' bubble hat, "That's stupid," she snorted at him.

John frowned and opened his mouth to scold her when James slapped his hand against the water and sent it spraying all over the three of them. Anna yelped and jumped back before she sloshed both of her hands through the water and caused John to be liberally doused. Soon the twins began to yell at one another.

"You're a pig James!"

"Stop being such a prat Anna."

"You smell awful!"

"Your hair stinks!"

"You're ugly."

"You're uglier!"

"You're the ugliest!"

"Shut up!"

"Make me!"

Each insult was delivered with a splash. By this point John has raised himself to his feet and grabbed a towel to dab against himself. He frowned, "James and Annabelle! You two will stop bickering at once!" he snapped and glared hard at both of them.

Each child had a hand out stretched to splash the other, but John's voice stopped them. Anna blinked and smacked the water splashing James, her gaze never leaving John's. John glared, "He started it," she protested and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout.

John sank back down to his knees, "I don't care who started it. I am stopping it. No telly for either of you for the next two days."

Both children whined and sagged into the water. John grinned, he was rather proud of himself for the punishment he had come up with. Now that the twins were subdued and in sour moods John could finished up their bath properly and get them to bed. Their daycare would be open again tomorrow so John didn't have to worry about another crime scene incident.

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><p>John yawned wide as he stepped into his and Sherlock's bedroom. His gray pajama bottoms hung loose on his hips and dipped deliciously low. He hadn't bothered with a shirt. As he moved into the bedroom he could make out the gangly form of Sherlock lying on his back with his hands clasped over his stomach. John grinned. He knew Sherlock wouldn't be sleeping, but John loved having him there all the same. He also enjoyed the way Sherlock's silver gaze followed him as he walked around to his side of the bed.<p>

"It's really not too late to bring them to a shelter John," Sherlock said as the older man slipped under the covers next to him.

John settled himself into bed before he dignified Sherlock's words with a response, "No," was all he said.

Sherlock frowned and settled himself under the covers as well. He really did think well when he had his body pressed up against John's. He could feel the heat radiating off of the smaller man and his heartbeat calmed him.

"So, figure anything out with the case then?" John inquired with a yawn and settled his head on Sherlock's shoulder, his azure gaze soft on Sherlock's.

"The killer is not a modern day Jack the Ripper but rather he is inspired by someone else, someone in a book. I do also know that they seem to be inspired by an American serial killer. The phrase, _'Our brothers and sisters have gone mad.' _Cleary relates to America…brothers and sisters and each of the victims have a sibling who is living in the states now," Sherlock informed John.

John grinned, "Sounds like you're looking for an American psycho," he teased and tipped his head up to kiss Sherlock's chin, "at least pretend to get some rest tonight Sherlock," John said and wrapped his arms around the taller man's waist and pulled him tightly to himself.

Sherlock hummed a response and bent his head to press a kiss into John's feather soft hair. "Goodnight John," he answered.

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><p><strong>AN: **So…what do you think? It is a short chapter, sorry about that, but it is moving the story along. Sherlock is so very close to figuring out the book…and I'm sure you all have by now so you can maybe predict what will come next…given you've read the book…which is very gruesome…anyways, no beta or Brit-pick so please excuse all and any errors as mine. I did try and fix what I saw, but any I missed let me know! Review please!


	6. Toeing the Line

**Ripple**

**Chapter 6: ** Toeing the Line

**Summary: **Sherlock discovers the literature ensnaring Moriarty's sick fascination and receives some unsettling threats.

**A/N: **I'll tell you, it really sucks a lot not having your own laptop. I'm very lost without it and I feel like I'm cheating on it when I use my dad's computer to update my story. Hopefully my part comes soon, but who knows how long shipment from China takes…anyways enough of my woes and let's continue shall we?

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><p><strong>*Day 4 of Hell*<strong>

Sherlock hadn't seen such a brutal murder in a long time. Hardly anything left to distinguish the body as a female. She was very nearly ripped limb from limb, yet small threads of muscle and skin still kept everything attached. Sherlock shivered. Lestrade shifted uncomfortably next to him and kept his eyes on the wall across from them.

"Found by a young bloke, said his dog had run off and when he found him again he was…sniffing around the body," Lestrade said.

Sherlock nodded and pulled his small magnifying glass from his pocket and moved over the area the woman's neck once was. He was making mental notes of the way the flesh and the blood there looked. He didn't look over his shoulder when he heard the telltale sound of John coming into the storage unit.

"John," he greeted as he moved to the other side of the body.

John nodded and was thankful the kids were in their daycare today and not with Sherlock. This crime scene was decidedly worse than the last. John crouched next to the unfortunate soul and sucked in a breath, he looked across the mangled corpse to Sherlock, "Sh-she was alive for most of this," John hissed motioning to the body.

Sherlock's steely eyes showed no emotion as he nodded, "Acid was introduced this time. The other three were just killed with a large kitchen knife. He's getting a bit more creative now," Sherlock stated and picked up the woman's hand. It too was held to the arm with a thin ribbon of skin and muscle. The woman had two and a half fingers missing. Sherlock frowned.

"Christ Sherlock, look at where her thumb was, those are teeth marks..s-someone bit her thumb off," John hissed again as he noted the way each juncture of her body was mangled and that her body was held together by few precious tendons and skin.

Sherlock didn't make a sound. It would be useless to swab the finger for saliva, Sherlock knew the killer wouldn't be found in the databases with it, he glanced over at Lestrade, "Was there another message?" he asked the Detective Inspector.

Lestrade shook his head, "We didn't find anything this time, she another call girl?" he asked.

Sherlock nodded stiffly, "Not much of her clothes left but her shoes, they give her away. She's from another service entirely. I also fathom that she has a sibling in America. Her sibling lives in New York city just as the other siblings do."

John sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He turned away. He couldn't look at the mangled mess anymore without being haunted by war visions. He closed his eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"John…you can wait outside," Sherlock said softly as he came to stand next to John.

John nodded and managed to walk rigidly out into the chilly air just as Anderson and Donovan moved past him. They didn't greet him; something about the grimness of the scene didn't particularly entice one to be cordial. John was thankful that he wasn't called upon to speak to them just yet; he doubted he could open his mouth without launching into a panic attack. The mangled corpse far too closely resembled what some of his friends had looked like after stepping on an IED. John moved into the vicinity of the police cars and shoved his hands into his coat pockets as he leaned against the hood of one. He closed his eyes again and forcefully willed the disturbing images from his mind. He concentrated on the cool air slipping in through his nose and down to sting slightly against his lungs. The distraction was welcomed. He opened his eyes again against the early afternoon sun and something white flitted through the air. John squinted at it and it came to rest at his feet. It was a paper airplane. He cocked a brow and picked it up. Curious, as anyone would be, he unfolded the paper and read the note scribbled there.

_I figured another little push is in order for you. I'm very fond of this book Sherlock. I almost think you might enjoy it too, though your little pet might find it disturbing. Here, I'll be nice and give you a few lines from the novel:_

" _I was simply imitating reality, the rough resemblance of a human being, with only a dim corner of my mind functioning. Something horrible was happening and yet I couldn't figure out why - I couldn't put my finger on it. The only thing that calmed me was the satisfying sound of ice being dropped into a glass of J&B."_

_You got it from here then I hope Sherlock. Say hi to the kids for me._

_ JM_

John was going to be sick. The initial part of the letter didn't bother him, not until Moriarty had mentioned the twins. John very nearly smashed the piece of paper in his grip, but some hidden refuge of strength prevented him from doing so. His feet were rooted in their spot, he didn't think he could count on them to move him to where Sherlock was so he had to count on his voice, "Sherlock!" he yelled harshly, tremors shaking his hands.

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><p>Sherlock's head snapped up from his phone. He heard John yelling for him. His heart very nearly shattered through his ribcage. He couldn't fathom what would have John yelling for him. He quickly ran from the storage unit and saw John by the police cars. He was holding something in his left hand; his hands were shaking. Sherlock swallowed the lump in his throat, John's hands <em>never<em> shook.

"John?" Sherlock asked quietly with worry as he neared the doctor. Sally and Anderson followed behind Sherlock and Lestrade took up the rear.

John was wide eyed when Sherlock reached him. He shoved the paper into Sherlock's chest, "Here," he muttered.

Sherlock blinked, he wanted to shove the paper away and take John's face into his hands and see what upset the man, but he didn't. He reached towards his chest and pried the paper from John's grasp. His Steele grey eyes quickly flashed across the words written there. His brows furrowed and a frown pulled at his lips, he looked up, "He was here," he breathed and looked at John again his eyes going wide, "My God John, he was here, are you alright, did he do anything?" Sherlock asked now returning his attention to his doctor.

John was still a little too stunned to register what was going on until he felt Sherlock's hands on his shoulders. John made a pained noise and shrugged from Sherlock's grasp, "I'm fine Sherlock. I didn't see him. It was a…a paper airplane."

Sherlock sucked in a deep breath just as the others reached them. "Like I said before, scour all of the five star hotels for any man from New York. He could be a banker, an investor, a CEO, something high up. See what you can find and text me the instant you have something. I need to figure out this book," he told Lestrade and shoved the letter to the DI.

"I…B-but Sherlock?" Lestade sputtered as he pulled the letter from his chest and skimmed what was written there.

Sherlock shot him a glare, "We're leaving," he said and placed his hand under John's elbow and steered him away and towards the road where he hailed a cab.

John, again, didn't register much until he felt Sherlock pulling him towards the road. John made a noise and dug his heels into the cement beneath his feet, "Sherlock…Sherlock!" John prodded until the detective turned to face him with a questioning brow raised, "The twins Sherlock, we need to get them from the daycare," John huffed and started walking again.

Sherlock grunted indignantly in his throat, "Mycroft will pick them up and bring them to Baker Street, for now we have to keep them out of this as much as possible."

John furrowed his brows, "Mycroft?" he questioned and the thought actually almost made him laugh.

Sherlock looked up from his text, "Yes Mycroft, please listen John. If anyone were better equipped to ensure the safety of the two hellions it is the British government," Sherlock muttered and hit send.

John snorted, "Well yes I suppose but…" he trailed there seeing the glint in Sherlock's gaze; so it wasn't so much about protection as it was payback.

"He brought baby pictures to the queen John…to the _queen_!" Sherlock huffed and turned away sulking as he hailed a cab.

John bit a knuckle to keep from chuckling, really it wasn't proper considering what they had just left behind, but the reminder was almost too much for him, "Thought you didn't hold grudges," John said as he entered the cab.

Sherlock huffed, "Mycroft is barred from that privilege," Sherlock informed him, "besides, the hellions love him for some reason and he them," he tutted and opened the message from Mycroft and smirked before typing furiously again. He entered the quote from the novel into the search bar and waited while the dredges of the internet struggled to bring forth what his search had dug up. Sherlock clicked on the first link. He had to scroll a bit in order to find what he needed, "Ahhh…brilliant," he muttered.

John coughed from next to Sherlock, "Excuse me Sherlock, but did you just call him brilliant? A man who is torturing young woman in some of the worst ways imaginable…I know you don't generally think along the same lines as us normal humans but…brilliant? Really?" John huffed as Sherlock started to scroll furiously through his phone.

"Found the book…I'm not sure if I should be worried or not that Moriarty gave us such a blatant clue," he said and looked over to John with furrowed brows.

John wanted to continue to be angry but the look on Sherlock's face made him let out a sigh, "I'm not such a big idiot to see the dolt has a…a crush on you…actually I think the sodding psychopath might actually be in love with you…or rather your _hard drive_," John muttered and turned his gaze to look out the cab's window.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, "Oh don't be so droll John, really," he muttered and fired off directions to the cabbie to the nearest bookstore.

John whipped his head around and shot him a glare, "Oh, excuse me for not liking the fact that my partner is being lusted after by some psychopath who likes to think up new games to entice him with, and forgive me being a bit pissed that my partner bloody well enjoys the games," John retorted in a quiet and angered tone.

Sherlock frowned again, "I don't _enjoy _them John," he hissed and shoved his phone into the pocket of his black coat.

John snorted and looked away, "Could have fooled me," he muttered and then faced the detective again, "all I want you to keep in mind, Sherlock, is the well-being of the twins. They will not be pawns in this sick game you and Jim are playing with one another. If either of them is harmed…so help me Sherlock," he hissed very angrily.

Sherlock blinked, and then his brows lowered as he glared at John, "I would _never _put them in danger John. Do you really think I'd do that? I may not like them all that much but…but I'd never forgive myself if anything did happen to them," he muttered grudgingly and sulked against the door of the cab.

John sighed and moved a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry Sherlock I just…I don't like when he toys with us and I don't like that it…excites you," he muttered quietly.

Sherlock blinked and looked over at John. He straightened in his seat and reached over to twine their fingers together, "John…the only reason it excites me is because when he does this…he opens himself up for me to get at him. He leaves clues scattered around when he comes out to play because his cronies aren't smart enough to clean up after themselves. I know that the murders are upsetting but they allow for me to get closer to taking him down," Sherlock said to him and squeezed their hands. Sherlock didn't really know how to word exactly what he had just told John but he knew John would understand nonetheless.

John sighed and squeezed his hand in answer, "Then let this be the last game he plays Sherlock, innocent people keep being killed for him and for you," he said quietly and glanced out the window as the cab pulled to a stop.

Sherlock nodded, he couldn't promise John he'd get Moriarty this time around, but he would try. He was always trying because Jim's words repeated in his mind all the time:

_"I will burn you…burn the heart right out of you."_

If there was one thing Sherlock Holmes _could not _and _would not _survive, it would be the death of John Watson. Sherlock's fingers tightened unconsciously on John's as he pulled the doctor from the cab. Sherlock would never allow harm to befall John; not as long as he could help it.

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><p><strong>AN: **So thoughts? I beefed it up a bit for you guys! I'm actually rather proud of this chapter for some reason, so I really want your thoughts! Please review! I am so very excited for reviews because I crave them so very badly!


	7. Squidmire the Third

**Ripple**

**By: **Raven612

**Chapter 7: **Squidmire the Third

**Summary: **Sherlock comes up with a new lead and is confident he's got the killer…also some twins mixed in to make things more interesting. Also, there will be a dramatic ending!

**A/N: **I'm going to cry from lack of reviews. I need them! I cannot write without them! Also, sorry this chapter took so damn long, I just couldn't find my inspiration, but it did come back and I was able to write again! I am going to shamelessly self promote right now. You guys should all follow me on tumblr. I have become very addicted to it. Here is my link, erase spaces of course. ht tp: / malzy07. tumblr .c om / Also, again, no Beta or Brit-pick so I apologize for any errors in the story!

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><p><strong>*Day 5 of Hell*<strong>

Sherlock scanned through the pages of potential suspects that Lestrade and his crack team had compiled. His gaze narrowed at each name. After he scanned the page for the fifth time he sighed and slapped it down on the desk. He looked up and across to Lestrade sitting opposite him. "He's not on any of these lists," he muttered and pressed the tips of his fingers against his eyes. He couldn't understand it. The man had to be staying in a hotel; unless…Sherlock looked up suddenly his mouth open in an 'o' shape and his eyes went wide.

"Care to fill me in Sherlock?" Lestrade asked as he narrowed his gaze. He hated when Sherlock chased a lead on his own; that's not how things were supposed to be done.

Sherlock looked up with a smirk; he pulled out his phone and began to type frantically, "He isn't in a hotel! He's a New Yorker with a flat here in London. Of course, makes perfect sense now. They've fashioned the killer after Patrick Bateman," Sherlock's grin widened as he hit send and finally looked at Lestrade.

Lestrade sighed, and reached across the table, and picked up the useless pieces of paper and put them back in the file, "I take it you texted Mycroft? Trust he'll point you to the man we're looking for?" the DI asked with a quirked brow and slipped the folder into a drawer.

Sherlock looked up as he slipped the phone in his pocket, "We're looking for an upper class man. He's rich, well connected, well established, has an important job as a day trader, is very intelligent, and frequents London. Of course Mycroft will know him," Sherlock nearly spat, but at the last moment caught himself as a sharp whisper went through his head. Trust John to always chastise him even if he wasn't in the room.

Lestrade nodded and stood from his chair. He arched his back and eased the kinks from his aching lower back, "You better be right about this man this time around Sherlock, I've already expended many of my men and women to the agencies the man is ordering the girls from."

Sherlock shot him a glare. He didn't like that he'd been wrong the first time around, but now that he had the book Moriarty and his man were drawing their inspiration from, he was more confident. He stood abruptly from his chair, "You'll have your man within a few hours. I have to go now," he said in short and clipped tones before turning on his heel and exiting the DI's office.

Lestrade sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. Sherlock had been spending a lot of time in the office to get away from the twins so that he might think, but being at New Scotland Yard was also wearing on the detective. Lestrade actually chuckled a bit at how flustered Sherlock seemed in the past few days. He moved out of his office when Sherlock had gone and found Donovan and Anderson. He filled them in as much as he was able with the new developments. He then sent them both to work pulling up records of any Americans who owned flats in London.

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><p>John groaned as he stood from his desk chair. It had been a long day at the surgery. It seemed flu season was officially upon them now. He'd seen patient after patient for three hours straight and even had to skip lunch for one particularly crotchety old woman who insisted she was dying. John sighed as he turned to gaze out his window. Fall was fading quickly and winter was swiftly moving in to take its place.<p>

"John, sorry to bother you but you've got one more patient," Sarah said as she poked her head into his office.

John turned to face her and frowned, he'd checked his schedule, he was a free man. He opened his mouth to protest, but instead he said, "Alright, send them in," and he deflated again into his chair. He stated to scribble a few notes and start a list of items and groceries for on his way home when the clicking of footsteps interrupted his thinking. He looked up, and his eyes widened for a moment.

"Afternoon doctor Watson," the man said with a cordial grin and sat in the chair next to John's desk.

John blinked, then narrowed his gaze, "Sebastian," he greeted icily. To be frank, John rather disliked the man. They had served together briefly in the army, and from what John had seen there, Sebastian seemed to be a bastard of a man with deadly accurate aim.

Sebastian himself only grinned widely before settling back in his chair, "It's been a while John, just heard you were in London not long ago from some mates. A little birdie even told me where to find you."

John didn't say anything. He looked down at the chart a nurse had given him, "Chest pains, am I to believe that?" he asked as he looked up eyeing the man.

Sebastian chuckled, "I just wanted to come say hi. Didn't think you'd fancy meeting me for a pint unless I spoke to you in person," he said with a slight shrug, "faking chest pain was a pretty simple solution," he amended as John put the chart off to the side.

"Well, then take this as my formal declination of meeting you for anything." John told him coldly and set his shoulders stiffly.

Sebastian grinned and put his cap back onto his head, "Well then mate, it was nice seeing you again, maybe we'll run into one another some other time," Sebastian grinned again and pushed himself to his feet, "until then, take care of yourself…doctor," he winked and started to whistle a war song as he exited John's office.

John had turned in his seat to watch the man exit. Only after the sound of his whistling died did John let himself relax. He let out a breath and brought his right hand up and rubbed it against his eyes. He hated reminders of his past, and seeing Sebastian Moran was not on his list of things he wanted to do today, or ever. He couldn't even fathom why the man had come to see him, they didn't know one another very well. He let his hand fall back to his side and he stood from his chair. He shrugged out of his white jacket and moved to the small cabinet along his wall and opened it. He grabbed his black jacket and put it on. He then grabbed his phone from the desk and slipped it into his pocket. He wrapped a scarf around his neck and exited his office.

Sarah looked up from the front desk and smiled, "Off for the day then?" she asked him. John was eternally grateful that she didn't seem to hold anything against him for ending their relationship to pursue Sherlock; if anything she greatly encouraged them.

John forced a smile for her and nodded, "Off to get the twins and some groceries, winters on its way, have to prepare for it," he told her with a small smile.

Sarah nodded, "See you in the morning then, have a good night doctor Watson," she called to him as he exited the small surgery.

John waved back at her before turning to face the cold day. He frowned and shoved his hands into his pockets. He'd have about a block to walk in order to successfully hail a cab; he didn't seem to possess the cab hailing powers that his lover did. John walked briskly to keep himself warm, his shoulder hunched up to his ears. He was glad that he'd taken the extra time to bundle the twins up this morning, otherwise they'd be the next ones to fall ill. John groaned inwardly at the thought…if they weren't ill already anyways. He shivered just thinking of what could be contained by the walls of their daycare. Finally John reached the block he needed. He stepped up to the curb and lifted his hand into the air to hail a cab. Three cabbies passed him by before the fourth one finally stopped. John thanked whatever was looking after him and slipped in. He gave the cabbie the address of the daycare and sat back to re-warm himself.

Ten minutes later John found himself standing in the doorway of the room where Annabelle and James had their daycare. Annabelle stood on one side looking very miffed while James clung to John's knees and took to hiding behind him.

"If it happens again Mr. Watson, I will not allow them to come back," the woman said to him.

John flinched and shot Anna a look before tiredly nodding his head, "Understood Miss Lee. I'll be having a little chat with Annabelle when we get home tonight," he informed the teacher sternly as his gaze slid down to his niece. Anna huffed and crossed her arms and looked away from him.

"Good," the woman nodded and turned on her heel. John tried very hard to not crack a smile when he saw the line of red pain staining the back of her trousers. Anna saw it and she grinned widely.

"Come on Anna," he sighed and held his hand out for her.

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><p>"She deserved it Uncle John, really she did," Anna protested a few minutes later as they sat in the back of a cab.<p>

John frowned, "She's your instructor Anna, you don't go and paint her chair just because she gave you a low mark on your writing," he told her as he leaned forward a bit.

Anna glared hard at him, "Mummy always told me to stand up for myself," she retorted and crossed her arms and swung her head to look out the window.

"I'm sure mummy didn't mean that you go and paint your teacher when she said that though," he muttered, "no telly for you for three days now," he said to her sternly as way to dissuade her from making an argument, and when she opened her mouth to do so, John gave her a sharp look and shook his head.

Anna stuck her tongue out and resumed staring out the window into the cold grey day.

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><p>A bag of frozen peas smacked John square in his temple. He glared and bent to pick them up. As he stood up he was met with James standing in the cart glaring, "I hate peas Uncle John, mummy never makes me eat them," he mumbled.<p>

John threw the peas back in the cart, "Well, I'm not your mummy now am I?" he retorted and bent to the side to grab a few ripe tomatoes.

James bent to pick up the peas again, "I said no peas," he tossed them over the cart then instead of at John.

John sighed and pushed the cart forward and picked them up again, "I don't care if you eat them or not, I need them for the flat," he said and set them in the cart a bit further from James. He then looked around. He'd sent Anna to get some bread five minutes ago. John turned the cart to go look for her.

Crackling sounded overhead, "John Watson, we have your niece at the customer service desk, John Watson, your niece is looking for you," a female voice sounded above his head.

John shuddered, "Oh what the bloody hell now?" he steamed and started to push the cart with a bit more force towards the front of the store. He went up to the counter, "I'm John Watson," he told the woman behind it in a tired tone.

The woman grinned and pushed open the counter door and shoved Anna out, "This belongs to you then," she said and the door closed with a snap.

John looked down. Anna's face was covered in chocolate and other colors. He groaned and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and knelt to the ground to clean her off, "I knew it, I knew I should have just brought you both home and done the shopping alone but I can't trust you and I bloody well can't trust Sherlock," he muttered to himself as he mopped up Anna's face.

Anna made a noise and pulled her head from John's grasp, "Stop it, I'm clean," she huffed and crossed her arms and stuck her bottom lip out.

John sighed and put his handkerchief back into his pocket, "We're going home," he announced and took them through the nearest check-out.

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><p>Sherlock didn't bother looking up when he heard John and the twins come into the flat. He ignored the two hellions as they whizzed past him and towards their room. He still didn't look up when he heard John set the groceries down with more force than was necessary. He kept his gaze on the book open in front of him. He'd read the novel in one sitting and was now looking for clues. Mycroft still hadn't gotten back to him, and Lestrade hadn't managed to pull the right man into the yard.<p>

"Earth to Sherlock, I said I could use some help," John snapped as he stood in front of Sherlock and plucked the book from his hand.

Sherlock looked up, "John, I'm trying to catch a killer," he said and snatched his book back from his partner.

John glared and opened his mouth to throw something insulting at the detective, but as suddenly as the urge to be angry came, it left. He let out a breath instead and sagged as he turned back to the kitchen. Sherlock cocked a brow. John usually put up more fight, something was wrong. Sherlock set the novel off to the side and followed John. He stopped in the doorway as we watched John put the shopping away.

"What happened?" Sherlock asked him quietly; hoping to not grate even more on the doctor's obviously warn nerves.

John sighed and rocked back on the balls of his feet after putting a box of cereal into a cupboard. "Got a visit from an old army bloke, Anna misbehaved at daycare today, and both of the twins were an utter nightmare at the market," John sighed as he turned to face Sherlock. He leaned back against the counter.

Sherlock frowned and tipped his head, "The man from the army, not happy to see him?" Usually John enjoyed seeing his friends from the service and would actually be in better spirits afterwards.

John snorted and moved from the counter to the table to grab takeaway menus. He was not in the mood to cook, "He's not exactly on my list of friends," John admitted dryly and fished out the Chinese menu.

Sherlock narrowed his gaze. He didn't like what John was saying, "What did he do?"

John blinked, confused for a moment, then realized Sherlock meant what Sebastian had done to earn such a place in John's book, John shrugged, "Other than the fact that he's an arse and was discharged from the army…I suppose he didn't do anything. He's just got that personality," John said with a thoughtful expression. Sebastian had never done anything to John to warrant his dislike, there was just something about him that didn't seem to rub John the right way.

Sherlock nodded, "I'd still like it if you stayed away from him," Sherlock muttered and looked down as John came to stand in front of him.

John smirked, "Don't worry, I told him to bugger off. He was just looking to have a chat," John told him with a disinterested shrug and then pressed the Chinese menu to Sherlock's chest, "order please, I need to take a shower," John sighed before pushing himself up to press a quick kiss to Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock pressed his own lips to John's and wound his arms around the doctor to pull him in closer. One of his hands went between them and covered the one John had on his chest. He smirked and pulled the menu from his grasp, "I'll fill you in on the case when the twins are in bed," Sherlock promised against John's lips.

John nodded and settled back on his feet. He didn't ask about the case while the twins were awake and Sherlock never pressed it. "Have you made progress at least?" John asked him as he pulled away to go to the bathroom.

Sherlock turned to follow him with hungry eyes, "Yes, I'm still waiting for Mycroft to hold up his end, but we're getting very close," he told the ever fading back of his lover.

"Good," John said before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door.

Sherlock grinned and went back into the living room to grab his phone and order supper. He was striding past the mantle when the familiar beep reached his ears. He stopped and a shiver of dread slipped down his spine. He turned to look at his skull. He reached out one long arm and picked it up to reveal the pink phone hiding beneath it. He picked up the phone. There was one new text message. Sherlock unlocked the phone and opened the message.

_Good evening Sherlock. Your pet seems to be exhausted tonight. No matter, I don't want to discuss him, instead, I want to know, can you be in two places at once? When it really matters my dear, can you manage to be in two places at once? Did you know I can?_

**JM**

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><p><strong>AN: **So, what do we think? I decided to be a bit creative with Sebastian xD Please review, it helps me to update faster! I really want to know how you guys like this story! This story does get a ton of action, but I still really need to know your thoughts and feelings on it! Thanks so much for reading! I love you all so very much! Also, shout-out to **skyfullofstars**. You all should read her stuff. It's all really freaking amazing! Alright, review! hehe


	8. Domestic Bliss

**Ripple**

**By: **Raven612

**Chapter 8: **Domestic Bliss

**Summary: **Serial killer caught, but now all the problems begin.

**A/N: **I have no idea why it's taking me so long to update, oh wait, I do, all these new Sherlock episodes and my emotions! Anyways, bloody brilliant Hounds and ASiB were, I just want to say I love you all and enjoy this next thrilling installment of Ripple!

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><p><strong>*Day 6 of Hell*<strong>

John leaned back against the hard bench with a sigh. He rolled his shoulders to ease the stiffening of the muscles there and tipped his head back to gaze up at the slowly darkening sky. He blinked slowly as shouts and laughter reached his ears. Somewhere in the distance a child had started to cry. He should really look to see if it was Anna or James, but he couldn't find the energy.

Between watching the twins and dealing with his ever excited lover, John Watson has not gotten a lot of sleep under his belt. He closed his eyes just as an airplane moved across the sky over his head. He can hear the distant rumble of the jet as it fades into the distance. His arms relax completely at his sides and soon his whole body follows suit and just sags into the bench.

"Uncle John?" a young male voice suddenly intrudes on John's quiet musings.

John sighs and sits up to look at James, who is standing before him, "What's up?" John asks and muffles a yawn with his hand. He had taken the twins out of the flat and to the park to give Sherlock some quiet time to think on the case he and New Scotland Yard are dealing with. There had been another body this morning, a homeless man and his dog. It was graphic, much like the other scenes, but Sherlock assured them all that it was nothing compared to what would be done if they didn't catch the man.

James looked shy all of a sudden, "I need to use the loo," he said and looked over his shoulder as the small brick building.

John sighed; he wished that James would be more like his sister in cases like this. He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up from the bench. He held his hand down to James and led the boy towards the loo. As they passed by the park John found Anna swinging. He caught her attention to let her know where he and James were going. He walked into the smelly bathroom and cringed at the odor as he led James to an empty stall. His eyes moved along the graffiti in the small building and shook his head at how unoriginal all the slander was.

"Alright then, let's hurry up," John said as he stepped into the small stall with James. John turned his back on his nephew and read the words painted on the inside as well. It wasn't like he enjoyed the harsh comments or ads to call someone; he just needed something to do with his eyes and the bright paint immediately caught his attention; one phrase in particular. It was a bright red color. It didn't take up a lot of room on the stall door, but it stood out. He squinted just to make sure he read it right.

_Hello Johnny boy, ready to have some fun?_

John involuntarily shivered at the phrase. It damn well chilled him to the bone. He hated the coincidence of the phrase and the very real threat of Moriarty hanging over Sherlock's and his heads. Sherlock probably would have discounted John's fears about the implications the graffiti might have; John could almost hear him now ticking off the reasons it wasn't Moriarty and the first being, how would Jim know John would come to this park and use this very stall. Also to be extra smart and smug he'd discuss the loopiness of the letters and the arches of the o's or the p's. To sum it up, Sherlock would huff about John being paranoid and turn around with his dark coat billowing dramatically. John frowned; it was just like Sherlock to act that way.

"Uncle John, I'm done," James announced and brought John back from his thinking.

"Good, c'mere," John said and used his hip to push the stall door open.

When he had James outside of the smelly building he pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his coat. He put a dollop into James' hand and then into his own. He made sure the boy had thoroughly rubbed it in before he sent him back to play for a few more minutes. John figured he'd let Anna and James play themselves out at the park so that they would fall right to sleep back at the flat, though John wouldn't be having sex with his lover, what with the case still going on; he'd damn well enjoy a quiet night catching up on other things. He checked to make sure the twins were in sight before shoving his hands into his coat pocket and resuming his seat on the wooden bench. He shifted a bit; the damn thing was uncomfortable, until he found an acceptable pose with his back slouched slightly and his legs kicked out in front of him.

John was enjoying his little bubble of relaxation on the bench when he felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. He narrowed his gaze and scanned the park. Nothing seemed to be amiss, the children were still running about and playing and the gaggle of mothers across the way were still discussing book club or whatever it was moms discussed. The wind had shifted direction and the air was growing a bit icier. He shivered and found James and Anna climbing up to go down the yellow slide.

"Fancy meeting you here doctor," came a male voice from next to him. John could _hear _the grin in the other male's grin.

John heaved a sigh, "Sebastian," he muttered and didn't turn to acknowledge the man sitting next to him.

"I never pegged you for a park kind of guy, John Watson, but then I never pegged you as one for the blokes either," Moran sniggered a bit with the last comment and elbowed John in the ribs.

John shot him a glare and scooted further away, "Well we all have our off days, don't we Moran, some of us more than others," John allowed himself a small smug grin at the dig.

Moran didn't let his mask falter, "The kids sure are cute, didn't think a bloke and another bloke could produce things like that," he chuckled and pulled a cigarette out of his breast pocket.

John stiffened and narrowed his gaze ahead of him. He would not give Moran the satisfaction of meeting his gaze, "You can fuck off now, please," John seethed.

Moran chuckled and waved his match in the air to extinguish the flame, "It's a public place mate and I aint done sitting here yet," he replied and a long thin line of smoke escaped his lips as he spoke.

John glared at nothing, but kept the twins in his sight. He didn't like that Sebastian had found him here and he was a little put off by the way the man was sitting, as if he was preparing to pounce on something or someone.

"What are their names?" Moran asked and sucked on the end of his cigarette and leaned lazily back against the bench, his elbows propped on either side of his chest.

"I said you can bloody well bugger of Moran, I am not in the mood to deal with you," John spat and bunched his fists tighter in his coat pockets.

Sebastian chuckled and plucked the half smoked fag from his mouth and threw it on the ground, "I really hope you've taught them not to talk to strangers John, you know the state the world is in today," he said and patted John on the shoulder as he got to his feet.

John cringed away from the man as he patted him and looked down at his feet disgusted, he didn't respond to Moran either, instead he got to his own feet and marched straight for the twins while Moran took off down the path in an opposite direction.

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><p>John and the twins arrived home just before supper and Sherlock, it seemed, had left at some point. John sent the kids to wash for dinner and he fished his cell phone from his pocket. He punched out a quick text to Sherlock to see where he was and what he was doing. He set it on the counter and began digging around the kitchen for something to eat. He finally settled on a box of cheesy noodles and some small sausages he found in the fridge. He got everything cooking on the stove when his phone vibrated. He picked it up and read the message.<p>

_Be home soon. Just arrested the killer.  
><em>**SH**

John sighed; he was relieved to know that Sherlock had finally caught the mad-man. He typed out a response and set his phone back down. He'd finally have his lover to himself again. Nothing could wipe the smile from John's face, which was true until he heard a crash from the living room and Anna yelp. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd seriously have to think about watching the kids next time Harry and her wife left for a holiday.

"James, Anna, what did you do this time?" he demanded as he walked into the living room. Immediately he couldn't see what they twins had done until he spied the skull on the floor and the familiar pink phone sitting next to the pieces.

"We're sorry Uncle John, but we heard it beep," James said quickly.

Everything was forgotten as John's gaze focused entirely on the phone. Sherlock had _sworn _that he had thrown the thing out ages ago after the pool incident. John's fists clenched, "Go sit down for dinner loves, I'll be in in just a moment," he told them evenly.

The twins nodded in unison and scampered towards the kitchen. John heard the chairs scrapping as they got into them and then scooted up to the table. John bent and picked up the phone; well sex was off for the night and in its place was going to be a very serious chat. He unlocked the phone and read the message.

_ Tut tut Sherlock, so you found my man. No matter, now the real fun will begin. Just how safe do you think your sick little dog and his litter are?  
><em>**JM**

John shivered as he read the message a second time. He absolutely oozed with hate for James Moriarty. His hand clenched around the phone and he pocketed it. Sherlock would have some penance to do until he was back in John's good graces again, and John was almost proud that his precious skull had broken into three pieces. Served Sherlock right for keeping such a huge secret from him, and thinking he could get away with it too. John then picked up the broken skull pieces and brought them into the kitchen. He knew Sherlock would most likely be brimming with anger when he saw it, but John didn't care. He joined Anna and James at the table for a silent meal.

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><p>Two hours after John had tucked the twins in for the night, Sherlock finally arrived home. He brought the smells of London in with him. John didn't look up from his laptop. He had the phone sitting on his knee and he was waiting for Sherlock to notice it.<p>

"We got him John, poor bloke fell to pieces when Lestrade knocked on his door, it was brilliant, all the sniveling and begging," Sherlock beamed as he removed his coat and hung it up.

John didn't answer or look up.

Sherlock furrowed his brows and walked into the living room, "Joh-" Sherlock froze when he saw the phone on John's knee.

"Well, when were you going to tell me you've been keeping in contact with your boyfriend?" John asked calmly and snapped the lid to his laptop close.

Sherlock glared and looked at the mantel, "Where's William?" he asked choosing to focus on the lesser of two evils.

John snorted, "He's drying out in the kitchen, Sherlock don't you try and focus on something else, we are discussing this," John said and picked up the phone as if the detective needed a reminder.

Sherlock slouched as he walked over to the couch and plopped down, "John I know you're upset and I know I told you I got rid of it but…I couldn't just throw it away, not when he was still out there. It's the only way he keeps in contact and the only way I'll know for sure just what he's up to or has his hand in."

John nodded, what Sherlock was saying did make sense. This cell phone with its unassuming pink case _was _their only link to the master criminal, "Sherlock, how come you feel like you need to hide things from me?" John sighed and rubbed his eyes.

Sherlock wanted to pout and not talk about the phone. He hated when John was upset or disappointed in him. He didn't care about anyone else, but if John ever felt negatively towards him, Sherlock always felt a little bit of hate for himself. He turned his head to stare at the wall, "I don't want you to be disappointed in me or with anything I do," he finally answered after a beat.

John frowned, well that was not the answer he was looking for, he sighed and deflated in his chair, "Sherlock, you truly are only human, no matter what you think, and sometimes people will be disappointed in you. You just need to realize what you did wrong and learn to fix it and apologize and move on. Life comes with disappointments, it's something everyone faces. I will get disappointed in you, but that doesn't mean I don't love you or care for you, it just means we both need to try harder to not do things the other doesn't like. I know I'll disappoint you too, it's life Sherlock and it happens."

Sherlock blinked and looked down at his shoes, "I'm sorry John I just…I didn't want you to know because I knew how upset you'd be," he sighed and drew his knees up to his chest. He clasped his arms around them.

John frowned; Sherlock was going into protective mode. John got up from his chair and moved to sit beside the detective. He leaned against him slightly, "Sherlock, from now on there will be no more secrets, especially ones you think might pertain to me and my safety, those are ones I utterly need to know," John said and put and arm across Sherlock's back.

Sherlock closed his eyes and pulled a breath in through his nose and just let himself fall against John, "Understood," he finally muttered and then turned his head a little to look up at John.

John nodded, "Right, good then, that being said, you've got another message," he said and handed Sherlock the phone.

Sherlock frowned and uncurled himself and grabbed it. He unlocked it and went to the inbox; he read the message and his frown deepened. He put the phone into his pants pocket, "He's a dead man if he tries to lay one single finger on you John," Sherlock muttered and cuddled into his side.

John grinned and lifted his arm to settle his fingers in Sherlock's curls to softly card through them, "You're a total wanker, you know that, always get me so worked up and then wind me right back down all in a matter of minutes," John mumbled with a grin and leaned over to press a kiss into Sherlock's curls.

Sherlock chuckled, "Part of my charm, John," he rumbled into the shorter man's neck and closed his eyes. He was utterly exhausted and all he truly wanted was to curl up with his John in their bed and sleep for a week. The case had taken more out of him then he'd imagined it would. He wanted to forget himself and forget the threats Moriarty was making towards his family, if just for one night, he wanted it, craved it, _needed_ it, but a sudden beep erased all that hope.

John stiffened, "Don't Sherlock, wait until tomorrow," he said and turned his head to look down at the detective.

Sherlock's brows were set and he was holding himself rigid. He needed to see what Moriarty had said now, though he truly didn't want to, he needed to. He straightened up from John who rose from the couch. Sherlock only blinked when John bent and pressed a kiss to his forehead and told him to come to bed. Sherlock absently nodded as he pulled the phone from his pocket. He unlocked the phone and opened the message.

_Tick tock Sherlock, how adorable you and your pet snuggling on the couch. Johnny makes such an adorable lap dog, do you think he'd be as obedient to me? Shall we find out? Who do you think will scream louder; your pet or the two little elves in the next room over?  
><em>**JM**

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><p><strong>AN: **Goodness me this chapter took entirely too long to pump out. I lost my muse for a bit there guys, but no worries; he is back and sexy as ever! Please review, it will help me be faster in the future! As usual no beta or Brit-pick .;;


	9. A Shot to the Heart

**Ripple**

**By: ** Raven612

**Chapter 9: **A Shot to the Heart

**Summary: **Moriarty makes his move on Sherlock.

**A/N: **I am so sorry this took so long. You guys can have all the fresh baked chocolate chip cookies you need to love me again. Shoot me a review when you finish reading and check my profile for my changed tumblr URL! Also, quick thanks to the loads of favorites and alerts! You guys rock!

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><p><strong>*Day 7 of Hell*<strong>

John's fingers slid easily down the slick torso of the tall, pale man in front of him. He grins and his teeth catch a pink nipple and pull on it gently. A low moan sounds from above and slender fingers wind through his hair. John purrs against the sensation. His hand moves through the course curls at the apex of Sherlock's legs and his fingers wind around the erect shaft.

"John…" Sherlock moans and his head falls forward so his lips bury in the wet strands of John's hair. His back is to the wall and stray water droplets bounce from John's shoulders into his eyes.

John grins and slides his hand up Sherlock's cock and twirls his thumb around the head while applying a little pressure, "We should _not _be doing this," John whispers and the grin on his face betrays his words.

A low chuckle emanates from Sherlock's chest and his hands splay over John's back and move down to grip his arse. "The twins won't be awake for another hour," he purrs as he bends his head to nip at John's ear.

John grins and tips his face up against the spray from the shower, and even with his eyes closed he finds Sherlock's lips. Their lips slip and slid over each other slicked from the shower, and the sensation sends a shiver racing across John's body. His quick little tongue darts out to trace along the seam of Sherlock's lips, and Sherlock opens to him.

Sherlock's arms tighten around John drawing him in closer and a moan escapes from his throat to be lost in John's. Sherlock bucks his hips to signal to John that his hand has stopped moving. John smirks and pulls back from the kiss a little. He gives Sherlock's cock one long pull, and then lowers his fist to the base again.

"Needy this morning?" John teases and draws Sherlock's bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a firm pull.

Sherlock responds with a moan and a hard buck of his hips against John's, "Stop teasing me," he hisses and one of his hands leaves John's back to grasp the doctor's cock. Sherlock gives it a slow stroke and grins.

John's eyes squeeze shut and his muscles tighten as Sherlock starts to stroke his cock. John buries his head into Sherlock's chest and he twists his fist on Sherlock's shaft. He grins, and nips at the skin in front of his lips. His cock twitches when he feels Sherlock shiver.

"God John…" Sherlock trails and his fist tightens in response around John's cock. He squeezes the shaft as he draws his hand up it and circles his thumb around the cleft in the head of John's cock.

John shivered and his own hand started to move quickly over Sherlock's shaft. He pulled his fist up Sherlock's cock and squeezed a bit tighter just under the head and then he moved his fist up to encompass the sensitive head of his cock. The moan from above signals Sherlock's approval, and John grins. John tipped his head up and blinked against the water. Sherlock groaned and looked down at John.

Sherlock raised his free hand and cupped John's cheek as he lowered to softly kiss the doctor's lips. Sherlock moved his tongue lazily into John's mouth and moved his hand down to gently grip John's balls. John gave a slight jump at the new sensation and his hips bucked. His cock bumps against Sherlock's and a new shiver of desire races along his spine.

"Jesus," John whimpers against Sherlock's lips and his muscles tense for a moment. He's close, so very close.

"Come for me John," Sherlock whispers in a gravelly voice right into John's ear.

John's free hand shoots up to tightly grip Sherlock's shoulder, and his breathes come in short pants. His own hand on Sherlock's cock twists and pulls to urge the man to his own completion. A keening noise tumbles from John's lips, and his leg muscles begin to tighten as his hips start to buck helplessly into Sherlock's hand. John latches his lips onto Sherlock's shoulder and bites down as his cock twitches in Sherlock's hand and the coil in his stomach lets go, and his ejaculate spurts out onto Sherlock's taught stomach. Sherlock's hand continues to move over John's cock, pulling his seed from him.

"Unnngh," Sherlock rumbles as John's hot semen hits his stomach and his back arches. His cock is forced through the tight fist John has made and his own orgasm ripples through him and hits John's torso.

Both men stand panting under the cooling spray of the shower. Sated smiles move over both of their faces, and John reaches up and Sherlock pulls him closer. In that moment, in their cocoon of love and comfort and lazy morning touching, nothing else exists. Moriarty is not a threat, a set of four year old twins are not sleeping down the hall, and there is not a threat to the lives Sherlock loves most. There is only John and there is only Sherlock. Their lips meet in a slow kiss and their fingers twine together. Neither man has to say it because they can both _feel _it.

* * *

><p>"But I don't want to go to daycare today Uncle John," Anna protested a quarter of an hour later as she sat with her brother and uncle at the kitchen table.<p>

John didn't bother looking over the newspaper, "You make the same argument each morning Anna, it's not going to work today," he remarked and lifted his cup of coffee to his lips and sipped delicately at it.

Anna huffed and stabbed her fork through the apple piece on her plate, "Can't we come and work with you? We got to work with Uncle Lock already," she pouted again. Let it be known that even at four years old, Anna knew how to pit her Uncles against each other.

James paled at the reminder and his fork slipped from his hand.

John sighed and lowered the paper. He reached over and gave James' hand a gentle squeeze and smiled at him, "You won't ever be joining Sherlock again and you _will _be going to daycare today," he said with an air of finality and got up from his chair and moved to the sink and rinsed his plate and cup.

Just as John finished rinsing his dishes Sherlock came into the kitchen. He raised a brow at the twins and looked at John, "I'll be with Lestrade for most of the day," he said as he moved to occupy the chair John had vacated.

"Canf weef comph wif you?" Anna mumbled around a mouthful of food and grinned.

Sherlock frowned, "Don't talk with your mouth full Anna," he scolded and grabbed the paper from where John had left it.

Anna frowned and swallowed her toast and grabbed her last apple slice and threw it at Sherlock, "Uncle Lock, stop being rude," she scolded right back.

Sherlock blinked and narrowed his gaze; James shrank back and ate his breakfast in silence. Sherlock picked up the apple slice and popped it into his mouth and shot Anna a smirk. "No, you can't come with me and I am not rude," Sherlock responded after he had swallowed the apple.

Anna glared, "You're no fun," she pouted and slumped back into her chair.

James looked between his sister and Uncle. He opened his mouth to say something, looked at Sherlock, and snapped it shut.

John turned from the sink and crossed his arms, he settled his gaze on Sherlock, "Children, there is no fighting at the breakfast table," he warned and moved to grab Anna's plate and cup.

James piped up then, "I wasn't fighting Uncle John, they were," he pointed to each guilty party.

John chuckled and shook his head, "I know James, I was talking to the children that were arguing," John tossed a pointed look to Sherlock. Sherlock ignored him and snapped the paper up so that he could read it.

James grinned, pleased to clear up the confusion that hadn't been present. He finished his oatmeal and ignored his sister's kicks to his chair. Once he finished he grabbed the empty bowl and slid from his chair. He brought his bowl to John. John accepted the bowl and cleaned it. He wiped his hands and turned to face the table. James had resumed his seat and Anna was standing in her chair bent halfway across the table poking the paper Sherlock was reading with a fork. John grinned at the scene. It was so domestic and it was also so very humorous because domesticity and Sherlock did not fit comfortably in the same thought. John shook his head, and moved behind Anna's chair. He hooked an arm under her waist and lifted her from the seat.

Anna jumped when she felt John grab her, "Hey!" she protested and her fork fell to the table with a clatter.

"Enough annoying Sherlock for now Anna, time to get ready to go," he ordered and set her on her feet.

Anna shot Sherlock one last glare and marched away. James scrambled from his chair and followed her.

Sherlock lowered his paper and looked up at John, "One more week and those hellions are not welcome back," he muttered and put the paper down on the table and accepted the cuppa John gave him.

John smirked and leaned against the counter and regarded his lover with a curious look, "You know you'll miss them when they go home. Don't deny it Sherlock, I saw the grin while Anna was vying for your attention," John teased and raised a brow challenging Sherlock.

Sherlock didn't answer. He glared at him and concentrated on his tea. He would miss the twins, but he didn't have to let John know he was right. His eyes followed John's movements through the kitchen as he prepared to leave for work and drop the twins at their daycare. John had been working hard to take care of the twins and Sherlock would make sure the doctor had a good rest after the kids were gone. He deserved it, and so did Sherlock for that matter.

"Sherlock, are you listening?" John asked and Sherlock noticed the doctor was standing in front of him waving a hand in his face.

"Yes John?" he asked and set his cup back on the table and leaned back.

"I asked you about the message from last night. What did it say? Do I have to worry about the twins?" John glanced towards the door to the kitchen to make sure the twins weren't in earshot.

Sherlock's jaw clenched. He recalled clearly the message Moriarty had sent to him. His fingers tightened as he refused to fist them in frustration. The truth was, he was worried about the twins and about John. It was very clear Moriarty was targeting them, but Sherlock didn't want to worry any one of them; he'd take care of it. If Moriarty wanted to threaten his family and the ones he loved, well then Sherlock would personally kill the man himself and enjoy every blissful moment of it.

"No, no need to worry. He was simply expressing his frustrations at my apprehension of his killer," Sherlock said and forced a smile across his lips before getting up from the table, "I'll be home late I imagine, Lestrade and his people need all the help they can get," he muttered and pressed a kiss into John's soft hair as he strode from the kitchen.

John frowned, he knew the smile was forced, but he knew better than to fight Sherlock, "Be careful Sherlock, don't let your arrogance cloud your judgment," John warned and shot him a pointed look from the kitchen doorway.

Sherlock smirked and pulled his scarf around his neck, "I'm always careful doctor," he replied and left the flat.

John chuckled and went to check on the twins and see how they were coming along with getting dressed. Not a morning went by that they wouldn't engage in a wrestling match and John would be pressed for time as he'd hurry them all out the door and into a cab. He grinned to himself as he walked to the room the twins were occupying, although they proved to be great pains in the arse, he still couldn't imagine his life without them. He pushed their door open and was not surprised that they were in a heap on the floor fighting over a sock. He sighed, but the slight grin offset his exasperation.

* * *

><p>John tapped his pen against his desk. He looked over the records a nurse had brought him. He was be examining a new patient in a few minutes. An older woman who always complained about arthritis pains and seemed to always find something wrong with each doctor she saw. John had been warned about her and took it in stride. Absolutely nothing could compare to his time in Afghanistan, surely he could handle one little old woman.<p>

A soft knock at his door had him looking up, "Come in," he called as he rose from his desk and opened the door the rest of the way for the older couple that came shuffling in. The man was tall and slender with a mop of white hair on his head. The woman he pushed in a chair was large and dressed in baggy clothes with an afghan wrapped around her legs. She had stringy gray hair that hung to her shoulders. She did not looked pleased to be there. The man was more sympathetic and had a warm smile on his face.

The old man looked up and smiled at John, "Dr. Watson, pleased to meet you, I'm Ian Samuels," the older man said introducing himself.

"Mister Samuels, pleased to meet you, and you must be Cora," John said with a smile as he acknowledged the woman in the wheelchair that Ian was pushing.

"Just get this over with doctor, I don't like to be kept waiting," the woman croaked and looked up from her chair and fixed him with a glare.

John kept his grin, "Right, we can get started straight away," he said and motioned for the couple to sit before his desk. He moved behind it and grabbed her files again. He typed a few things on his computer and turned back to Ian and Cora. They actually reminded John a great deal of his grandparents and he smiled at the memory. He folded his hands on his desk, "Cora, why don't you tell me why you're here," he said to her and settled into this chair prepared for the snarky comments and bristly attitude he'd expected based on her reports and warnings from other doctors.

Cora glared, "It's obvious. My last doctor was a dumb shit. I'm looking for a doctor who actually knows what he's doing," she spat and wiggled a bit in her chair and clasped her hands in front of her.

Ian frowned, "I apologize doctor, she really is a sweet woman, but loosing use of her legs a few years back has hardened her a little," the man tried to apologize for his wife's behavior.

John chuckled and shook his head, "No need to worry Mr. Samuels, I've got one at home too and his legs work just fine."

Cora's back snapped straight and her glare hardened, "We are done here Ian, I'm not seeing a homo doctor," she snapped and started to roll herself backwards.

Ian paled and his feeble hands twisted in his lap. He shot John an apologetic look and turned to his wife. John frowned. He sighed and turned away from the couple sitting in front of him to let them square out the small matter. He tried not to hear the words that slipped with venom from Cora's lips. He'd messed up and said too much. He rubbed a hand over his face and stared out the window.

"Oh Johnny boy, how are the twins this morning?" John paled at the question and just before he turned to see who had asked it, a searing hot pain soared through his shoulder and his window shattered. His mouth opened to yell out in pain, but a cloth was shoved into it. He fell to the side of his chair into a pair of strong arms. His eyes squeezed shut as black encroached on his vision. He had no time to react. Something was on the cloth in his mouth and it was starting to numb him. His whole body sagged into the body of Ian Samuels, who was no longer an old man.

"Fuck," was the only eloquent thing that John Watson could utter before his world went black. The two people who had posed as the older Samuels couple quickly stripped John of his white jacket. The woman pulled her clothes and wig off revealing a much younger and slender woman. They moved quickly and dressed John in the clothes the woman was wearing and put his limp body into the wheelchair. The woman left the office first and slipped out the back. The man was next and quickly pushed John from the office. He hoped the blood currently seeping from the bullet hole in John's shoulder wouldn't drip to the floor and give them away. He smiled and nodded at the receptionist and he pushed John out through the entrance and met the woman in a white van.

Across the street Sebastian Moran grinned. He took apart his gun and loaded it into its case. He grinned wider, he'd gotten John in the shoulder, the same exact spot he'd shot the doctor in years ago in Afghanistan.

Across town a daycare's kitchen burst into flames due to faulty wiring. In the chaos of kids and teachers, no one noticed a pair of four year old twins that were taken into a black van.

In the midst of the chaos a pink phone chimed and the world's only consulting detective stumbled as he read the message that accompanied a picture.

_Checkmate. –__**JM**_

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><p><strong>AN: **I promise not to make you guys wait too long for the next chapter! Review and let me know what you all think! As usual, not beta or Brit-pick so all mistakes are mine. I looked for mistakes and fixed what I saw, but I probably have missed a few of them. Thank you for reading!


	10. Decisions to Make

**Ripple**

**By: **Raven612

**Chapter 10: **Decisions to Make

**Summary: **Sherlock makes his choice and will have to pay for it.

**A/N: **Cliffhangers are so mean aren't they? I'm sorry lovelies, but enjoy this chapter please. All the reviews and faves and alerts are so very welcome. Keep them coming!

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><p><strong>*Afternoon of Day 7*<strong>

As soon as Sherlock saw the picture on the phone, his heart stopped. His eyes narrowed as he quickly scanned the background of where John was sitting. Sherlock ignored the blood staining his shirt, and most importantly he would not think about where the bullet hole was in John's shoulder. His jaw tightened and he was about to pocket the phone when another chime sounded and this time it was a picture of the twins.

Any rage Sherlock had been feeling upon seeing his John injured and restrained in a chair was made tenfold when he saw the twins with the word 'checkmate' following it. His fingers tightened so hard on the phone that the screen actually cracked. He stopped suddenly in his tracks and threw the phone against the wall. Anderson and Donovan stopped talking and looked back to see what had caused the noise. Anderson's eyebrows rose and Donovan looked shocked, then Sherlock looked up at them and they both adopted a look of fear on their faces.

"I have to go," Sherlock's tone was ice as he turned on his heel and left the phone lying dead on the floor. Soon he'd leave a consulting criminal dead on the floor too. He shoved his hands into his pockets where his fists clenched tightly. His nails bit into his palms. He knew where he was going.

Anderson and Donovan couldn't seem to react quickly enough. They had been leading Sherlock to Lestrade's office, much to Sherlock's and their disdain, and then they heard something breaking and skittering on the floor. When they looked back they saw the pink phone in pieces. When Sherlock looked up they saw the complete rage in the consulting detective's face. Despite believing that Sherlock would one day join the side of criminals and psychopaths, Sally and Anderson had never seen that look on Sherlock's face before. Anderson grabbed the phone in hopes he could figure out what it was that had upset Sherlock so much, but both he and Sally knew what the answer was, they just didn't know how bad it was this time.

* * *

><p>John came to consciousness painfully and slowly. It started with a throb in his shoulder. He made to rotate the joint when a sharp pain tore through him and his breath came out hitched. He shifted his body a bit in the uncomfortable wooden chair, and he could feel the metal scraping against bone in his shoulder. He groaned and his head lolled back. His entire body still felt heavy, way too heavy, and cold, very cold. He groaned and his head tipped to the side. He used every ounce of strength he could find in himself to open his eyes. He looked down at his shoulder. Same wound he'd gotten in Afghanistan. He closed his eyes as gunfire started to sound in his ears. He wouldn't fall into a nightmare now, not when his life was slowly leaving him.<p>

John opened his eyes again and this time he managed to straighten his neck to look around the room. It was actually a nice room. Cream colored carpet cushioned the floor and white wallpaper with thick gold stripes ran up a third of the wall from the floor where it was interrupted by thick wooden trim painted white. The wallpaper above the trim was a dark, blood red. John was in the middle of the room. His chair was sitting on a large square of plastic. In front of John was a large mahogany desk with ornately carved drawer handles. On the desk sat a black phone, one very similar to any office building in the world. A laptop was on top of the desk. John saw dual screens on the laptop. He saw himself sitting on the chair and the other screen was black.

Blood dripped down his left hand and into the puddle on the floor. John knew that if he was left here for another two hours, he'd be unconscious and toeing the line of life and death. He sighed and shut his eyes. He counted to ten before opening them again. Obviously this was something Moriarty had designed. John knew this was a game for Sherlock. John was trying to bring forward the memories of what happened before he ended up here from the visages of his fogged mind when the door to the room opened, and Sebastian Moran walked in with a large grin on his face.

"Afternoon doctor," the man greeted and strode over to where John was bound. The boots he wore made an awful crinkling noise against the plastic as he sat himself on the desk and looked at John.

"Sebastian? What the fuck are you doing here?"

Sebastian grinned, "I'm here to kill you…well…when I get the call to do so," he replied and pulled a handgun from his waistband and set it on the desk.

"You're working for Moriarty?" John asked as his brow furrowed in confusion when he studied the man sitting before him.

Moran nodded slowly, "He needed help and I needed work, not to mention he's fucking sexy in Westwood," Sebastian drawled in a slow voice.

John cringed in disgust, "I can't believe you were ever a soldier, you are pitiful," John spat.

Sebastian chuckled and leaned forward, "How's the shoulder doctor, does it hurt as much now as it did then?"

John glared and opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off.

"Because it felt just as exciting this time around as it had back in Afghanistan," Moran leaned back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he wanted the information sink in.

John frowned and blinked, he wasn't sure he heard the man right, "What? You mean you…did this to me?"

Moran nodded slowly, "I did, and it was almost obscene the amount of money the terrorists paid me to shoot on little army doctor."

"Why?"

Sebastian grinned and shrugged, "You were too good at what you did. You fixed up broken soldiers quickly and efficiently, you were undermining the rise of the terrorist cell that surrounded your camp. Take out the doctor, and the soldiers die," he answered in a nonchalant tone.

John's eyes flashed pure hatred and anger, "You are vile; I will kill you," John hissed harshly and pulled at the rope restraining him only to cry out in pain.

Moran chuckled and clicked his tongue, "Just like then Johnny, you're trapped in enemy territory, no one is going to come and save you now," the sniper whispered.

"You seriously underestimate Sherlock Holmes then," John said with a flash of a smug smile and fixed Moran with a look of superiority.

Moran was waiting for this moment. He grinned and shook his head, "Oh, I don't think he will save you this time doctor, not when there's another variable," Moran replied and hit a key on the laptop.

It took a moment for the view in the other screen to come into view and when it did John's heart leapt to his throat. On screen where Annabelle and James in a room similar to John's, and with the twins was the woman from his office and a guy he didn't recognize. An inhuman noise escaped John's throat, and he looked to Sebastian desperately.

"They're just kids, just a pair of fucking kids, let them go. I don't care what happens to me, just let them go. They have no part in this sick fucking game. Kill me and let them go," as John continued to plead his voice grew in volume as the rage and agony rose up in him.

Moran shivered, he loved this, "They're fine doctor, just look at them," he said and pointed to the screen again.

John didn't want to look, but he did. The twins were not bound or gagged; they hardly looked like they were fazed with being in the room. The woman seemed to be interacting with them the most. She had a warm smile on her face and Anna had giggled at something she said. James looked a bit worried, but the cookies seemed to be easing his worry. John sighed. He was glad at least that Moriarty hadn't done anything too severe to them…yet.

John turned his icy gaze to Sebastian, "What's his game this time?" he asked and clenched his jaw. He saw black moving in from the sides of his vision, and fought against passing out again. He would not, not when he knew his niece and nephew were in serious trouble.

* * *

><p>Sherlock pushed the door to the mansion open as soon as he arrived. He looked around the foyer. The home belonged to a Swiss diplomat who had no use for it at this time of year. Sherlock had been here twice before in his life, once when he was young and attending a function with his family, and another time a few years ago when he was investigating a case of food poisoning under Mycroft's orders. He had recognized the wallpaper immediately. His fists clenched in his pockets and he looked up when he heard someone coming for him.<p>

The man was tall and had broad shoulders. Thick muscles corded his arms and thighs. He looked more like a wrestler than minion. Sherlock regarded him with an icy glare. The man nodded for Sherlock to follow and he did so. He knew they were headed to the office towards the back of the house. They walked through the foyer and down a short hall past the kitchen and a dining hall. The henchman held the door open and Sherlock walked past him.

Moriarty looked up from his laptop when he heard the door click close. His smile was slow and calculated. He motioned to the chair in front of his desk, "Please sit down Sherlock, I do hate when you tower over me," the man's Irish accent added an eerie tone to his words.

Sherlock moved to do as invited to. He stared across to Moriarty.

Moriarty pouted and folded his arms on the desk in front of him, "Sherlock, it's rude not to greet me, I did invite you here after all, a guest should be kind to his host."

Sherlock snarled, "You're not even fit for the bottom of my shoe," his fists tightened in his pockets.

Moriarty's frown worsened, "Sherlock dear, that's not very nice to say. I should punish Johnny for your misbehavior. The master's actions reflect poorly on his pet. Bad dogs aren't born, they're made," he drawled with a slight eye roll.

Sherlock glared, "What do you want me to solve now, what case have you set up for me?"

Moriarty shivered, "Oh, no foreplay, right to the point, I like that…Sebby could use some lessons," he said with an air of excitement.

Sherlock merely stared at him. He was not here to play games; he was here to get the twins and John away and to safety. His jaw clicked.

Moriarty swiveled in his chair so that he could look out the window. He steeped his fingers under his chin and bobbed his head a few times. His shoulders hunched forward giving him an almost hunchback look. "Children are meant to be seen Sherlock; not heard."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, "Then let them go and you won't have to listen to them."

Moriarty laughed and turned himself back to face Sherlock, "I can't do that Sherlock, they're my insurance as is the lovely Johnny boy."

Sherlock's spine tingled with rage when Moriarty spoke about John, "Don't you talk about him like that," the detective spat and sat a bit more forward in his chair. He was positively vibrating with rage right now, and the only reason he hadn't flown across the desk and torn Moriarty's head off is the fact that he controls the fates of his John and the twins.

"Ohhhhh, touchy touchy," Moriarty taunted with a click of his tongue. He looked down at his computer and clicked a button and turned it to face Sherlock. He sat back in his chair to study Sherlock's reaction.

Sherlock looked at the screen. He'd known what he was going to see there, but it still caused him to flinch. He raised hard eyes and settled them on Moriarty, "What do you want me to do?" the question came out strained and tinted with red.

Moriarty grinned wide. His left hand went to the drawer of the desk and he opened it. He felt inside for two envelops. He pulled them both out. One was marked with the number 1 and the other with the number 2. Sherlock looked down at them. Each envelop held a key. He looked back up at Moriarty.

"It's really simple Sherlock, honestly," the consulting criminal soothed as he pushed the envelopes forward to the edge of the desk.

"Obviously they unlock the doors leading to John or the twins, the trick is that I have to guess correctly?" Sherlock raised a brown and allowed a smug look to cross his features.

Moriarty shook his head, "Oh no, I fear it's even simpler than that. I've grown tired of toying with you Sherlock, so I felt like ending this rather quickly. I wanted to break you, destroy everything that you are, and in order to do that I had to rip apart your heart. Until a few years ago you didn't have a heart and so I could never truly tear you down, but now…oh now you've got such a delicious heart and I want it."

Sherlock's lips drew tight against his teeth as a look of fury washed over his face.

"You may not love the twins as John does, but if you choose to save John over them…who do you think the doctor will come to resent for their deaths?" Moriarty's smile was slow and calculating, he looked down at the envelops.

Sherlock looked at them too, "One key is for John and the other is for the twins. All I have to do is choose one and the other dies," Sherlock slowly lifted his gaze and settled it on Moriarty.

Moriarty clapped his hands, "Oh, exactly. It is so very simple, pick one and once you do; Leo will take you to whomever you choose while I give the order for the others to kill whomever you don't pick. Envelope number one leads you to your doctor while envelope number two leads you to the little elves."

Sherlock nodded sharply and looked at the computer screen. There was a blond man with John. He wasn't too big, but with John injured and restrained in a chair, John couldn't fight him. The twins were being watched over by some female and male duo. Sherlock smirked, he could rescue them both. He looked up at Moriarty.

"Have I told you the story about Hannah?" Moriarty asked with a fond look in his eyes.

Sherlock swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Do you think I would employ someone if I feared they couldn't follow through with the orders I give them? Really Sherlock, just because she's a woman doesn't mean she'll hesitate to kill the kids. She killed her own kids, claims she saw the devil in them. All she and Joe have to do is give the kids the sippy cups of juice and its goodbye Anna and James," Moriarty chuckled and leaned back in his chair looking rather pleased with himself.

Sherlock paled. He looked at the screen again. The woman was running her index finger against the cap to one of the cups. She had a reverent look on her face, almost like she was looking forward to killing. Sherlock swore a blue streak in his mind. "No, I suppose you'd take the utmost care to make sure the kids are killed, even if it is a woman," Sherlock's voice is low as his mind runs through all the possible scenarios.

John is too weak to fight his attacker. He is tired down and there is no way he can escape the bonds with his shoulder so badly injured. Sherlock checks the screen again and it looks like John is fighting staying awake. He's lost a considerable amount of blood. Sherlock figures he's got only a half hour before his body starts to shut down.

Anna and James don't look to be in immediate danger, but Sherlock knows that's a lie. The man and the woman both have far away looks on their faces; they almost look wistful. Sherlock knows they will not feel any guilt over what they have to do should they be given the order to do so.

"Really Sherlock, there's no way you can save both parties, pick one and get it over with," Moriarty drawled in a bored tone.

A muscle in Sherlock's neck jumped. The palms of his hands began to sweat. How could he possibly make this decision? If he chose John over the twins, then Sherlock might as well have put a bullet straight through the doctor's heart. If Sherlock chose the twins over John then at least he would know that John wouldn't hate him, but then John would also be dead. Sherlock ripped his hands through his hair. What the hell was he supposed to do?

"Pick one Sherlock, you can't delay what is sure to come," Moriarty said with a grin and laced his fingers together under his chin.

Sherlock studied the screen again. He was hoping to pick up something he had missed before, some small clue that would allow him to know how to win, because he had to win, there was no alternative. He drummed his fingers against his skull and closed his eyes. He whirred through all the information he had in his mind. He had no clue who the man and woman team were and he had no idea who the man with John was. Not knowing these things gave Sherlock nothing to go on. The man and woman wouldn't feel too guilty about killing the twins. The poison that was likely laced with the juice would kill the twins swiftly and painlessly. The duo would likely be out of the room as the kids fell asleep and slowly died.

The man with John would likely shoot him in the temple. By the way the man was standing said he was ex-military. He held no qualms about killing people. The handgun was on the desk just waiting for the call. He'd pick the gun up as soon as he heard the order from Moriarty and he'd shoot. John would be dead just seconds after Sherlock would make a choice. His fingers curled and uncurled. He had no idea, for once in his life, what he should do.

"If you don't make a choice soon Sherlock, well, I'll make the decision for you," Moriarty told him and leaned forward in his chair, "I think we already know who you're going to pick anyways," he whispered under his breath.

Sherlock's head shot up and he fixed Moriarty with a glare. He got to his feet and placed both hands on the desk. He leaned in, "One thing is very clear Moriarty; you are a dead man," Sherlock snarled as his fingers closer over an envelope and he puts it into his pocket.

Moriarty grins and nods for the henchman to come forward to escort Sherlock to the proper room, "Good choice Sherlock," he calls as they exit the office.

Moriarty's eyes positively shine as he picks up the phone on his desk; he hits a button and waits. When the appropriate person answers he smiles.

"Kill the doctor."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So, review please? I promise to have the next chapter up by either tomorrow night or the next day, it depends on how my days go. I know I'm evil, but I couldn't resist! Please don't hate too much! Love you all so much!


	11. Escape Route

**Ripple:**

**By: **Raven612

**Chapter 11: **Escape Route

**Summary: **Someone dies.

**A/N: **Have I scared anyone away with my evilness yet? Are you guys ready to see what happens to the doctor? I'm excited to see what happens to John too! Thanks for all the support with this story, you all rock so much and I love each and every one of you! I send all my love back to you! Okay, on with the story!

* * *

><p><strong>*Afternoon of Day 7*<strong>

Sherlock walked a step behind the larger man. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the broad shoulders and meaty neck. Sherlock was the same height as the henchman and much leaner. The man had the upper hand of muscles, but Sherlock had swiftness. He glanced over his shoulder at the hall behind them. John was down that hall, and about to be shot. Sherlock turned his head back to the goon in front of him. He wasn't going to think about that. He pulled the envelope from his pocket and dumped the key into his palm. He looked back up at the man ahead of him. They were a fair length from Moriarty. A quick gleam flashed in Sherlock's eyes. He stepped forward, and in one swift movement, Sherlock snapped his flattened palm against the fleshy area just under the man's ear. The man gave a short, strangled cry before his body was splayed on the ground.

Sherlock looked around quickly to make sure no one had heard, or saw. He was still alone in the corridor. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and sent Mycroft and Lestrade a text. He needed help, and he needed it quickly if John or the twins had a hope of escaping alive. Sherlock then returned his attention back to the man on the ground. Sherlock bent down and hefted his hands under the man's armpits and drug him towards a darkened alcove the stairs leading to the second level had created. Sherlock hid him as best he could and grabbed the gun from his waistband. Sherlock placed it into the waistband of his pants and moved away.

He glanced down the hall again, so far he hadn't heard a gunshot. That was only a little promising. He quickly walked to the door that the man had been leading him to. He pulled the key from his pocket. He studied it for a moment before putting it into the hole and turning it. The door snapped open and Sherlock pushed it in.

Anna and James both looked up from a small table where they were coloring. Sherlock looked at the man and woman. The man nodded to the woman, and she backed away.

"Come James and Anna, we're going home right now," Sherlock said to them in a tight voice. His eyes leapt from the man to the woman and back again.

"Run along dears, your uncle has come to collect you," the woman drawled with a slow smile as she looked Sherlock head to toe.

Sherlock flashed her a deathly glare and ushered the twins to his side. He bent and picked up Anna who automatically wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Bye bye Miss Helen," Anna called and waved merrily to the woman who waved back and blew them a kiss. Anna giggled and caught it and pressed it to her cheek.

Sherlock shot the woman a glare and turned the twins towards the door. His only goal at the moment was to get the twins out before any sort of hell broke loose, and so far he was doing well. Sherlock's gaze stayed forward as he led the kids from the room. Lestrade and the others should arrive shortly, or so he hoped.

"Hey, where's Leo?" the man asked and stuck his head into the hall.

Sherlock closed his eyes and pulled in a breath, "He was required elsewhere," Sherlock replied in an even tone so as to not compromise the situation. He kept herding James and Anna towards the front door. In the distance he heard sirens.

The man stepped from the room, "Where?"

Sherlock drew a breath in through his nose and closed his eyes again to answer. "I don't know," he replied tightly and bent to set Anna on the ground. Anna and James looked between their Uncle and the other man. They started to fidget.

James tugged on Sherlock's coat sleeve, "Uncle Lock…where's Uncle John?" he whispered and Sherlock didn't miss the tremor in his voice.

"Hey, I asked where he went," the man had stepped into the hallway now.

Sherlock swallowed thickly and pulled the twins close and knelt down, "I need you two to go outside. Uncle Lestrade and the others are on their way. You need to go outside and wait for them while I get Uncle John. Can you two do that?" Sherlock hissed.

Anna, the usually more stoic of the two started to shake. This was not some impromptu visit by family friends as she was led to believe. She looked at James and grabbed his hand and looked back at Sherlock, "Uncle Lock?" she ventured in a shaky voice.

Sherlock closed his eyes again and let out a breath. He pulled her close and planted a kiss into her curls and did the same with James, "You two need to go, now," he said and gave them a little shove as the man from the room started to look for Leo.

Anna nodded and blinked back tears. Her hold on James tightened and she looked to her brother, "C'mon James," she whispered and turned towards the foyer. Sherlock watched them and then flinched when he heard the gun shot.

* * *

><p>Moran picked up the phone when it had rung and John watched wearily as his smile slowly curled. John sighed and sagged into the chair. Sherlock had chosen the twins. A smile flashed across John's face. Good…good. He opened his eyes once more, but his lids drooped.<p>

Moran hung up the phone and turned to John. He picked up the gun from the desk and stared at it, "Well doctor, it has been fun, but sadly, it's time for you to go," he chuckled and loaded the chamber of the pistol.

John's head hung to his chest. He coughed and a spray of blood rained onto the chest of his jumper. He smirked, "Get on with it then Moran," he wheezed and rolled his head to the side so that he could look his killer in the eyes.

Sebastian smirked and ran his hand along the cool metal of the pistol, "I wasn't able to finish the job back in Afghanistan, but now, now I can finally finish the only job of mine that was left unfinished," he grinned and came to stand in front of John.

John smirked and pulled in a shaky breath, "I'll see you in hell then Moran," John muttered and then managed to throw his head back to rest against the back of the chair.

"I'll look forward to it doctor," Sebastian grinned and placed the barrel of the gun into John's temple and knocked John's head back and bared his neck.

"Oh just fucking shoot already," John hissed and drew in a shaky breath.

Moran chuckled and pulled the gun away, still keeping it aimed at John's head, "I'm enjoying this moment doctor. You aren't going to survive this; I'm just letting tha-"

Moran didn't get a chance to finish because John had brought his knee swiftly up and crashed it into Sebastian's groin. It was a textbook trick and about the only thing John could think of that would work given his predicament. Moran had immediately dropped the gun and fallen to the floor. Still running on an adrenaline rush John threw himself against his bonds and his chair crashed to the side and the old wood splintered. John groaned when his shoulder made contact with the floor and the ropes became loose. John didn't have a chance to steel himself against the pain. He quickly flipped himself to his stomach and used his right arm to push himself to his feet. He staggered around a moment; his vision was blurred and his legs threatened to give way at any minute. He saw Moran finally regaining his faculties and the gun lay only a foot from his outstretched hand.

"You are a dead man doctor," Moran hissed as he rocked onto his back.

"Fuck you Moran," John hissed and staggered forward and fell onto his knees. He fell forward and caught himself with his right hand on the floor.

Moran kicked out with his foot and his heel caught John's injured shoulder. John howled in pain and fell backwards. The back of his head bounced against the carpet. He sucked in a deep breath and looked to his right. The gun was only inches away. Moran saw John look. John wasted not a second and grabbed the gun with his right hand. He lifted it and pulled the trigger. He wasn't sure where he hit Moran, but he heard the man yelp and heard the thud of his body hitting the floor. John then flung the gun into the furthest corner of the room and flipped himself back onto his stomach. He groaned and his eyes scanned the area until he came to rest on the still form of Moran lying spread eagled on the floor. There was a pool of blood surrounding him, but John didn't care about that. He needed to get to Sherlock and the twins. John used his right arm to drag himself towards the door and halfway there the blackness took over again.

* * *

><p>Sherlock swore and turned and ducked just as the other man swung at him. Sherlock pulled the gun from his waistband in mid crouch and upon standing he knocked the butt of it into the back of his assailant's head. As he came to full height a bullet whizzed past his face and the woman stood in the doorway. Sherlock raised his gun and pointed it at her. The woman grinned and stepped into the hall.<p>

"It seems Jimmy underestimated you," she said and grinned.

Sherlock glared; he needed to get to John, "Save yourself the wound and just give me the gun," Sherlock ordered and held out his hand.

The woman laughed and shook her head, "Oh, I don't think so detective, I think you're going to be the one that gives me the gun because you are sorely outnumbered," she said and looked over his shoulder.

Sherlock closed his eyes and muttered under his breath. He heard the slight scuffle behind him and then heard the sound of a chamber of a gun being loaded. He moved his eyes to see the man he'd just knocked out, now standing again. Sherlock looked back to the woman. He shifted around a little and saw that he had the barrels of two guns pointed at his head.

"Drop it detective, or die," the woman hissed.

Sherlock turned to look at the man and the woman. He grinned and slowly lowered himself to the ground as if he were actually going to set the gun down. As he neared the floor in a crouch, he turned and shot, hitting the man in the knee. He howled out in pain and his gun dropped. Sherlock threw himself to his stomach and flipped and pulled the trigger once more and caught the woman in the abdomen. Sherlock then scrambled to his feet and ran down the hall towards the room where he heard the gun shot from before.

"John!" he called as he kicked the door in, gun aimed ahead of him. Sherlock's arm slowly lowered when he took in the scene. Moran lay on the flood with a hole in his chest and his eyes already glossed over with death. Sherlock's eyes then found the all familiar form of John lying on his stomach with his right arm stretched out towards the door.

Sherlock quickly knelt to John's side. He set his gun on the floor and gently flipped John over to look him over. If he hadn't seen the shallow dip and rise of John's chest, he would think him dead. Sherlock swore and then looked up when he heard sirens right outside the house. Sherlock's phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He ignored it and hefted John to his feet as gently as he could.

"C'mon John, you need to help me out here," Sherlock hissed as he wrapped his left arm around John's waist.

John moaned in response, and curled the fingers of his right hand into Sherlock's shirt, "T-twins?" John managed to croak.

Sherlock shuffled forward pulling John along with him, "They're safe and the Calvary has arrived," Sherlock said with a slight chuckle as he managed to get John out into the hall.

"Good," John sighed, and his feet tripped over one another as Sherlock led them down the hall. Every few steps he'd moan in pain and his face would contort.

Sherlock tried hard not to think about the pain John was in. They were so close now. Sherlock led them around the bodies lying in the hall. Sherlock turned the corner into the main foyer and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Fuck," he hissed.

Moriarty grinned like a madman, "Oh Sherlock, did you think I wouldn't figure you out. I knew Johnny boy was just so precious to you," he said and tipped his head.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Moriarty. He had a gun trained on Anna's head and held James' wrist in a vice like grip. Both children had tears streaming down their cheeks. Sherlock's heart threatened to beat out of his chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Wha…" John moaned and tired to open his eyes to see what was going on.

"Hello Johnny, I see Moran got to boasting and found his demise," a faint tone of pure rage leaked into Moriarty's usually chipper and sick tone.

John groaned in response and his body sagged even more against Sherlock. Sherlock staggered a bit and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You've lost Moriarty, let them go and just give up," Sherlock said in an even tone, his left hand shaking very slightly as he held onto John.

Moriarty chuckled and shook his head, "No, you took something from me and I'm going to take something from you!" Moriarty snapped and jerked James forward and pressed the gun to the back of Anna's head.

James hiccupped and new tears began to spill. Anna trembled and kept her blue eyes fixed on her Uncles. Her lips trembled as she fought back sobs. Sherlock looked from the twins to Moriarty and back again. He could see the flashing lights outside. For once Sherlock was glad they hadn't come barging into the house. So far they'd heeded his direction; that was good. As long as no one came bursting through the door then no one would get shot, or so he hoped.

"You can't win. You are surrounded by police and even if you kill them or myself or John…well you know what happens," Sherlock said flippantly and flexed his fingers.

Moriarty chuckled and shook his head, "I die, Sherlock, and you all come with me one at a time. I will kill Johnny first and then the kids. I'll start with James and then Anna and then…well maybe I'll let you live Sherlock…let you live with this guilt Sherly," he grinned and bumped the back of Anna's head and she let out a gasping breath.

Sherlock's gaze narrowed. He did not doubt the man for a minute. He looked around the house. He could hear faint orders on the other side of the door being shouted. Sherlock's heart was pounding. He needed a miracle. He turned to John. He was struggling to pull in breathes. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut to think, and then he was defended by a gun shot.

"No!" he screamed as his eyes snapped open and he looked at Moriarty. The crazed man's eyes were wide open and blood was trickling out of a hole in his head. The twins screamed and fled to hide behind Sherlock as the body of James Moriarty fell forward to reveal Anderson standing in the doorway and a stunned Sally Donovan next to him and a pale Lestrade right behind them.

Sherlock's knees gave out and he and John sank to the floor. Soon police were flooding in through the front door and everything, all the shouts, and voices were a faint buzz in his ears. Sherlock was acutely aware of someone puling John away from him. Sherlock reached to grab John again but his fingers just brushed over the course threads of his jumper. Somewhere he heard the screams and sobs of the children then saw Sally and Anthea cradling one twin each who had been swaddled in a shock blankets. Mycroft's face swam into view right before Sherlock's world went black and he fell forward onto his stomach.

* * *

><p>Hours later Sherlock woke with a start.<p>

"Easy Sherlock, you're in the hospital," his brother said from right next to him. "You fainted on scene," he elaborated and set his file to the side and folded his hands on his umbrella.

Sherlock shut his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face and turned his head towards Mycroft, "John? Where's John?" he asked and sat up.

Mycroft fixed him with a look.

Sherlock glared back and ripped the IV from his hand and swung his feet over the side of the bed.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft scolded and stood from his chair and put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder to push him onto the bed.

"No Mycroft, I am fine, let me up, I need to see him," Sherlock pleaded as he looked up at his brother.

Mycroft sighed and nodded behind Sherlock. Sherlock stopped moving and looked over his shoulder. His breath caught in his throat and he scrambled from his bed. His knees wobbled and he had to grab his rail to steady himself. He looked back to Mycroft.

"His shoulder was shattered and he had a fair amount of blood and fluids in his chest cavity. They're still draining the fluids, but he will be okay," Mycroft informed him, "the twins are being looked after by Anthea, Officer Donovan, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade," Mycroft added and Sherlock nodded.

Sherlock opened and closed his mouth trying to form words, but they wouldn't come. He sighed and just stared up at Mycroft and gave his arm a squeeze as he hobbled over to John's bed and fell into the chair. He reached up and moved his fingers through the blonde fringe on John's forehead and grabbed his hand. Sherlock rested his elbows on the mattress and placed John's hands against his lips and closed his eyes muttering under his breath.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He turned towards the door to the room, "You're welcome Sherlock," he sighed and his footsteps and the tap of his umbrella faded down the hall as he left Sherlock and John.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So? What do we think? This was a fairly difficult chapter to write and I really would like to know your thoughts on this chapter! Thanks for reading and I shall try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible! No beta or Brit-pick so excuse any errors.


	12. To Build Anew

**Ripple**

**By: **Raven612

**Chapter 12: **To Build Anew

**Summary: **John is recovering and the details are worked out, a bit, and a worried Harry.

**A/N: **I suppose you've all waited long enough for this next installment. I shall not keep you any longer. Read and drop me a nice little review!

* * *

><p><strong>*Mid Afternoon of Day 8 of Hell*<strong>

Sherlock paced the interior of John's room.

John had been taken earlier that morning for reconstructive surgery on his shoulder. Sherlock was a bit nervous to let him go, but on the behest of his brother, Sherlock stood back as they wheeled John out of the room. He frowned as he watched the man go and went to his chair to sit and wait.

Sherlock had grown sick of sitting and was pacing when Harry found him.

"Sherlock!" she said, startled, and then regained her composure as she walked fully into the room and looked around.

Sherlock turned to face her. He'd been preparing for this. He knew Lestrade had called her and her wife to inform them of what happened with the twins and Moriarty. He sighed and widened his stance waiting for the abuse Harry was sure to give him. He squared his shoulders and met her gaze.

Harry only stared at him before opening her mouth, "Where is he? Where's John?" she asked coming to stand a few feet from Sherlock.

Sherlock raised a brow and looked to where the empty bed was, "They took him to surgery. His bones were shattered by the bullet and his previous scar tissue has been dislodged. They need to clean out the scar tissue as it could find its way to his heart and they need to reconstruct his shoulder. He's been gone for seven hours now."

Harry nodded and set her purse on the small counter next to the door that led to the loo. She sighed, and Sherlock noticed just how weary she looked. He took a step to the side, "You should sit down Harry, he should be back soon," he told her and motioned to his chair which she accepted thankfully.

She rubbed a hand over her face; it was a hell of a time being sober now. She brushed her hair from her eyes and turned to face Sherlock, "I know you're expecting me to blow up and accuse you of putting the twins in danger, and I am bloody pissed at you, but you also saved them. You saved their lives and you saved John's. I guess my gratitude for that outweighs all of the shit I'd like to be screaming at you right now." Harry falls silent then as she stares at the bed.

Sherlock sees her emotions flashing in her eyes. He sees her hands tighten against the arm rests. She is nervous, and is thinking of the first time John was shot. Sherlock sees her swallow thickly. He frowns, "John is going to be okay. He's not in the desert," he tells her, because it is true. John is okay, well for the most part anyways.

Harry nods curtly, "The twins wanted to come and see him, but I knew he probably couldn't handle the excitement they would be sure to bring along," Harry gives a dry laugh then and slouches in her chair, "they're as resilient as ever. Apart from James being extra sensitive and more cautious now, you wouldn't know they'd been kidnapped and held at gunpoint," Harry sighed and turned to look at Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded curtly, "They are remarkable," he was surprised that he didn't have to necessarily force the word out as it pertained to the two hellions.

Harry snorted, "I should have recorded that. I doubt you'll ever refer to them in that way again," Harry said with a quick smirk.

Sherlock's lips flashed into quick grin and he nodded. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked a bit on his heels, "I am…sorry for what happened," he told her after a long beat of silence.

Harry nodded, "He's gone now, or so I've been told, so…there's nothing to be sorry for," she replied with a simple shrug and looked at him.

Sherlock nodded. The only thing he regretted was not putting the bullet in Moriarty's brain himself, but that paled in comparison to having John alive.

"This is different than last time," Harry sighed as her gaze went to John's empty bed.

Sherlock didn't say anything in response.

"Last time they only phoned mum and I. They told us John had been shot, and as of right then, they didn't know if he'd make it. I'd never seen my mum so broken, not even when she was sick. I remember she collapsed to the floor. I had no idea what was wrong, but I figured it was John and something had happened. We couldn't go to him, and we didn't get to see him for two more months when they finally deemed him fit to be packaged up, and sent back home. I was in a sorry state at the time from mum's death, and fighting with Clara…I couldn't bring myself to greet him at the airport. I didn't screw up the courage to go and see him until three weeks later when I gave him my old phone. He was so broken…I wasn't sure how long I'd have my brother." Harry talked quietly, almost as if to herself, and her fingers turned and fumbled in her lap.

Sherlock's face had paled while Harry spoke. He looked out the window. He hated hearing about John like that. Somehow the picture didn't seem to fit with his John now. Sherlock didn't want to imagine the ghost of John Watson so many years ago. He shivered, "It's not like that now. He will be okay, and he will be happy," he said finally.

Harry turned to face him. Her eyes shone with tears, but none fell, "I know, he's got you. You're the best thing to have happened to him Sherlock, no matter what that silly brain of yours might think sometimes," she told him honestly.

Sherlock smirked quickly. Harry was much more reasonable when sober, and Sherlock found that he rather enjoyed it because it reminded him of John, "I'm the lucky one," Sherlock argued and his eyes slowly drifted to the empty bed.

Harry only nodded, not in the mood to argue. She crossed her legs and settled in to wait for her brother to get done in surgery.

* * *

><p>Sherlock had just made his three hundredth circuit around the room when a doctor knocked on the door. Sherlock's head snapped up, and Harry got to her feet. Both of them were upon the doctor in an instant. He blinks, startled, but smiles calmly.<p>

"Harriet Watson and Sherlock Holmes I presume?" he says to fill the space and to get them to give him some room.

Both nod.

The doctor nods as well and pulls up a clipboard, "Doctor Watson did remarkable in surgery. We didn't lose him once, came close, but with some skilled fingers and quick thinking, all crises were avoided. He's got a few plates and screws now, however, in place of some bone that has been forever lost. Apart from a few bumps, his shoulder should be as good as new in a few months, depending on physical therapy. He's in recovery now and should be back here in about two hours, any questions?"

Sherlock let the breath out of his nose and shook his head. He knew all he needed to know, John was alive and he'd see him again in two hours.

"I don't expect him to become fully conscious until late tomorrow, but that depends entirely on him and how his body processes everything," the doctor added as a quick afterthought before saying goodbye and leaving the room.

Sherlock nodded and watched the doctor leave. Sherlock had been ordered to see Lestrade about the previous day's events after hearing news from the doctor, but there was no way Sherlock would leave now. He took out his phone and messaged Lestrade saying that if he wanted his report completed; then he could bloody well come to the hospital and talk.

Harry sighed and sank back into the chair, she gave a wry smile, "Somehow I just can't believe it, but he really is going to be okay, maybe a bit worse for wear, but okay," she muttered and pulled out her phone to call her wife and let her know the news and to pass it on to the others.

Two hours later, as promised, John Watson was returned to his bed. He had thick bandages wrapped around his left shoulder and arm to hold everything securely in place. There were various tubes and wires coming out from under the blankets, that for one second, Sherlock thought he was the bionic man. A quick grin flashed with the thought. He was standing on one side while Harry was on the other. As soon as the nurses had John situated in the bed, Harry rested her hands on the rail of his left side.

"Hey John, it's me. I've come to see you this time. We're all glad the surgery went well. You should be out of here in a few weeks, granted everything goes smoothly," she whispered to him and lifted a tentative hand to brush through his blonde hair.

Sherlock watched silently, allowing the brother and sister to have a moment. He'd talk to John while he was alone. He was on John's right side and so he was able to grab his good hand. Sherlock gingerly cradled it in the palm of his hand as he stood there listening to Harry talk to him. He only half heard the things she was saying before her increase in volume startled him out of his thoughts. He looked up.

Harry smiled softly, "I'm going to help Julie with the kids. They're getting restless and Mrs. Hudson needs some rest. Please tell me as soon as he wakes up," Harry pleaded as she looked across to him.

Sherlock nodded, "Of course, give my best to everyone," he told her.

Harry smiled, "Of course, let me know if _anything _happens," she told him once more before turning and leaving the room just as the DI was entering.

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he saw the man, "I didn't think you'd really come," he commented as he moved around the bed to collect the chair from John's left side. He went back to the right side where he could hold John's hand.

Lestrade scoffed and shoved his hands into his pockets, "I was concerned for the doctor, and I know that if I don't come now to talk to you I never will. I just need your side of the story so I can make up my report," he sighed and moved closer to the side of John's bed. He frowned as he looked down at the doctor.

Lestrade liked John. He was a good bloke and a trustworthy mate, and he kept Sherlock mostly inline these days. He appreciated the man a great deal for everything that had to put up with and get through with Sherlock. God knows he's a strong man in order to deal with the 'high-functioning sociopath.'

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what Lestrade was thinking, "You came for my story, well here it is," Sherlock told him to pull his attention from John. Sherlock related the events from his point of view for the next half hour and Lestrade scribbled down notes.

After Sherlock had finished, Lestrade looked up with a grin, "Bet it rubs you wrong that Anderson shot him," he stated as he pocketed his small notepad.

Sherlock glared and stroked his thumb over John's knuckles, "I don't care. I only care that John and the hellions are safe," he replied in a tight voice, his eyes never leaving John's face.

Lestrade didn't heed the warning in Sherlock's tone, "It bloody surprised me when he reached over for Donovan's gun. I never thought the man had it in him, but he did. He was still as a statue, but as soon as Donovan opened that door and he saw Moriarty with his gun against Anna's head," Lestrade cringed before continuing, "it was like something shifted in him. In an instant he had Donovan's gun and had shot before I could order him not to."

Sherlock nodded. He wondered what about the situation might have triggered such a response, and then he remembered a case a few years back, the one where Anderson and Sherlock's abrasive relationship was solidified, if you could call it that. They'd been mixed up in a hostage situation, completely on accident while at a crime scene. A father, in a drunken rage, had taken his daughter hostage and was stumbling all around the street yelling at anyone who would listen. Lestrade had ordered his men down, lest the girl be injured, but Anderson had argued. He tried to rescue the girl, but the father saw him as a threat and had ended up shooting her. Only a few months later Anderson's marriage started to fail, and from the state of Donovan's knees, it was still continuing to fail.

"My…t-thanks go out to him then," Sherlock had to force the words out, but it was true. He did have Anderson to thank for everything, as much as he loathed the thought.

Lestrade nodded, "I'll let him know, he sends his best to the kids and John," Lestrade replied as he relaxed into a civilian stance, "How is the doctor?"

Sherlock looked up to John's sleeping face and smiled, "He'll be right as rain in a few months. His shoulder may not function the same as it once has, but I could care less. He is alive. That is all I care about."

Lestrade nodded. It was still a bit odd to think of John and Sherlock as a couple. They had been living together for nearly four years now and had been…_together_ for the last year and a half. John had been through countless relationships before finally telling Sherlock how he felt. They hadn't come out to anyone, but it was evident; the slight shift that had occurred. Everyone noticed it, but everyone was smart enough to not comment on it.

"Good, he's a good man Sherlock, and he's lucky you got him out of there in time," Lestrade said with a nod, "I'll come by when John is awake and able to have more visitors. Give him my best and the yard's best when he wakes up. Take care of yourself Sherlock," Lestrade admonished with s small smirk. He and Sherlock had been…friends for the last four years and the five years before that…Lestrade didn't know what he'd call them.

Sherlock nodded thankfully, "Thank you Lestrade," he said in a rare moment of thankfulness.

Lestrade nodded, "Right, well I'll be off," he tipped his head quickly and exited the room.

Sherlock watched him go before resuming his chair at John's bedside. He gingerly picked up John's hand and just held it. He needed to fell John, and know, just _know _that he was alive. Sherlock couldn't live without John. It was selfish, but he needed the doctor so much more than anyone else, or that's what he thought in his mind, and it was probably true. John had taught Sherlock more than Sherlock could ever hope to teach John or even pay him back for.

As Sherlock sat there at John's bedside, just watching him, and occasionally talking to him, an idea struck him. A slow smile curved on his face; he couldn't wait for John Watson to wake up so that he could present it.

He rose to his feet and leaned over John, "John, I love you, just…please always know that," he whispered and pressed a kiss against John's lips.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Look at that, finally nothing evil! The chapters to follow shall be full of cute! I need to rectify my evilness, and the evil that is to follow in a new story I am working on. Please review and let me know what you think! I love reviews! You all rock so much!


	13. Ask and You Shall Receive

**Ripple**

**By: **Raven612

**Chapter 13: **Ask and You Shall Receive

**Summary: **Sherlock is submitted to the most intense interrogation of his life by the scariest people he's ever met.

**A/N: **So…even more apologies from me. Life got in the way, but I'm making it up to you all with a fluffy chapter!

* * *

><p><strong>*Day 9 of Hell*<strong>

Sherlock hadn't slept. He was convinced that, as soon as he would shut his eyes, John would stop breathing. It was completely unwarranted. John was fine. He was just resting and his body was healing itself. Sherlock knew this, yet he couldn't bring himself to settle down. Sherlock was convinced that anything concerning John Watson would always take first position in his mind. He simply couldn't focus when John was hurt, or being threatened.

Sherlock sighed and got to his feet. He had to pace to ease the tension in his back. The chair was starting to agitate his muscles. There wasn't enough padding on it to be conducive to his current situation. He walked the short length of the room. His eyes always stayed on the monitors hooked up to John. None of them had changed at all during the night. He looked up at the clock. It was 8AM. The doctors had lowered the pain meds and antibiotics just an hour ago. Sherlock expected that John should be finding consciousness in the early evening. Sherlock sighed, he was so bloody BORED.

Just as he thought he'd literally lose his mind, a soft knock sounded at the door, he turned, "Come in Harry," he called and moved to stand on the good side of John's bed. His gaze narrowed when he saw Anna and James trail Harry.

"Morning," she called and set a vase of flowers on the windowsill on the other side of the room. Anna and James hesitated a moment before going to John's bedside.

Sherlock narrowed his gaze at them, "Morning," he answered slowly not looking at Harry.

Harry sighed and rolled her eyes, "They wouldn't stop bugging me to come and see John so I broke down," she told him and set her purse and coat on the small counter next to the sink.

Anna looked across John to Sherlock and smiled, "Morning Uncle Lock!" she called and waved.

Sherlock and James flinched, "Morning Anna," he nodded. He reached up and brushed some fringe from John's forehead, "How are you?" he asked because he could see the look John would be giving him if he didn't ask.

She giggled, "I'm okay Uncle Lock," she told him with a nod and then watched as her mum came to stand next to her and James.

Harry reached up and smoothed her hand along John's cheek, "How is he doing?" she asked and didn't look up at Sherlock.

Sherlock grunted, "Good, he's started to move a bit, his meds have been lowered. He should wake up in the early evening," he informed her while his gaze settled on John's chest and he watched it rise and fall.

Harry nodded, "Good, that's good," she muttered and blinked. She lifted her head to look at Sherlock, a small smile on her face, "He'll be right pissed about having his shoulder injured again," she teased trying to lighten the mood.

Sherlock made a noise and lifted his shoulders. He just wanted John to wake up already so that they could go home. He sighed.

Harry cleared her throat. She'd been studying John while the twins were studying the room. She blinked and settled her gaze on Sherlock.

He narrowed his gaze at her and shook his head, "No, no, no, no Harry, I'm not…I can't…no," he said with some force.

Harry frowned, "Please Sherlock, I don't have anywhere else to leave them," she pleaded.

He shook his head, "No, do you really want to torture me?" he hissed at her.

Harry narrowed her gaze, she could play the game too, "Sherlock…you owe me, after what they went through because of you," she knew it was a low blow, but she really had nowhere else to leave the twins while she and her wife got a few issues settled.

Sherlock's spine straightened. He really wished John was awake now. He narrowed his gaze, she had to go there. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before giving a sharp nod, "They can stay for a few hours," he told her sternly.

Harry smiled wide and nodded, "Thank you Sherlock, I'll make sure to be as quick as I can, they shouldn't be too much trouble, thank you," she gushed and grabbed her things. She turned to the twins and knelt down. She murmured to them and kissed each of their foreheads. They said their goodbyes, and then, Sherlock was left alone with the hellions.

* * *

><p>An hour later and Sherlock was ready to decorate the walls with his brains. The twins had been upon him as soon as Harry left. James hadn't, no matter what Sherlock did, let go of his hand, and Anna was never more than two steps behind him. The detective could not find his own space, nor enough quiet to just think, so he plopped down into his chair and ignored the twins.<p>

They eased away from him after becoming more comfortable with their surroundings, and they started to explore the room. James found a leftover stethoscope and he and Anna entertained themselves for about ten minutes playing doctor. Soon they got into a fight over who was the doctor and for how long; Sherlock found himself with a new stethoscope. Anna started to explore the cabinets and equipment, and that's when Sherlock made the decision to take them out into the halls for a walk.

Sherlock decided that he should have done the walk a long time ago. The nurses faun over the twins and give them candy. Sherlock is unsure of the candy at first, but it shuts them up so he's fine with it. He is also slightly thankful for them as a distraction. An hour ago he was nearly losing his mind in John's room with nothing to do, and now he had two little kids to keep his attention.

They wander the halls, Sherlock following behind the twins while they explored and looked into different rooms. They traveled a floor down and found the pediatric wing where a playroom sat unused. James and Anna exchanged a look before taking off. Sherlock sighed and followed. He found an uncomfortable waiting-room chair and sat down to watch the twins play themselves out.

The twins managed to entertain themselves for a good hour before they complained of being bored and asking to see John again. It's nearing lunchtime and Sherlock knows he should feed them so he brings them to the cafeteria. After the twins finish lunch and Sherlock has a sandwich, they ask to go to the room again.

Sherlock complies and they head back to the room. It's a feat in and of itself, but Sherlock is actually feeling exhausted when he gets back to the room. He goes up to John's bed and murmurs a greeting. He bends over and kisses his forehead. John makes a noise and his head moved slightly searching for Sherlock, but he doesn't wake up.

Anna tugs on Sherlock's trouser leg, "Uncle Lock, I wanna give Uncle John a kiss too," she whines.

Sherlock sighs and bends to pick her up. He hasn't held the twins often, and it's a bit awkward as he lifts her by her tiny waist and bends her over so she can smack her lips on John's cheek. The doctor makes an incomprehensible noise. Anna giggles, and Sherlock sets her down. James looks up at him pleadingly. Sherlock grumbles under his breath and lifts James so he can smack John's cheek as well. Sherlock sets him down and sighs. It's almost one and Sherlock is terrified to think that he could use a nap. He pulls the chair closet to John's bedside behind him and plops down. His long legs spread out before him and he deflates. Anna and James don't waste a second and climb into his lap. He groans and glares at them.

"Must you invade my space at every turn?" he sighs and is too tired to push them away.

Anna giggles and shakes her head, "Why are you so mean Uncle Lock?" she asks as she settles herself more comfortably on his long thigh. Her small legs dangle on the inside of his thighs. James is sitting in the same manner, but he's stiffer.

"Because I'm a sociopath," he tells her and flashes a quick, fake smile.

James cocks his head, "What's a Soci…Soci-path?" he asks and kicks his legs.

"Too complicated for you to understand."

The twins both frown, "Nah-uh, what are you Uncle Lock?" Anna asks this time.

Sherlock glares, "I have no emotions Anna," he finally says.

Anna and James both seem to be trying to think about what he said, "But you love Uncle John, right?" James asks, and his body relaxing a bit more in Sherlock's lap.

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "Of course I love your Uncle John," he mutters.

"Then you're a human," Anna says with a nod and smiles. She nestles closer to him and lays her head against his chest.

Sherlock stiffens. He's not used to anyone else cuddled so close to him except John. He looks away from the kids, "Of course I'm a human," he grumbles while staring at the wall.

"Then you're not a Soci-path," James reasons.

Sherlock snorts, "You don't understand," he told them with a slight shake of his head.

"Is that man really dead forever?" James asks suddenly, his hands are gripping Sherlock's thighs tightly.

Sherlock nods and swallows the lump in his throat, "He's gone forever, he won't ever do anything to anyone ever again," he says quietly and lifts a hand to ruffle James's curls, and he smiles a tiny bit.

Anna sighs and nuzzles into Sherlock's chest, "Do my mum and mummy really love each other?"

Ah, the perception of a child, Sherlock looks down. Anna isn't looking up at him, but James is. Sherlock clears his throat, "I think they do, very much," Sherlock is thankful no one, save for an unconscious John, is in the room to hear all of this.

"Why did they leave without us then?" James asks and follows his sister's lead and cuddles against Sherlock's chest.

"They needed to do something only they could do with each other," Sherlock responds with a slight shrug.

"Couldn't we help?" Anna asks him and winds her arm around his waist.

Sherlock snorts and shakes his head, "No, this was grown-up business," he mutters and suppresses a yawn.

"When will I be a grown-up?" James asks and his eyes flutter as he listens to Sherlock's heartbeat.

"In fourteen years," Sherlock answers and looks down at the twins. He feels a bit funny having them like this. It's too normal. He's not sure if he absolutely hates it, or just really dislikes it.

"When we're grown-ups, does that mean we get married then?" Anna asked and yawned wide.

Sherlock blinked, oh Lord help him; he was not going to tread these waters. He cleared his throat and looked at the wall, "Yes, if you…if you fall in love then…then yes…yes marriage should be…erm…the next step."

"How come you and Uncle John aren't married then?" James asked softly.

Sherlock stiffened and looked down with wide eyes. He hadn't been expecting that, and he didn't really have an answer for it. He'd only recently been contemplating the possibility, but wasn't sure how John would feel about it. He cleared his throat and drummed his fingers against the arm rests of the chair.

"Yeah, how come you and Uncle John aren't married Uncle Lock, do you really, really love him like times a billion?" Anna yawned again and Sherlock felt his cheeks heating up.

He looked across to where John was sleeping, the thick bandages around his shoulder and arm to hold everything in place left a mound in the blanket. He smiled faintly and settled into the chair again, "We've never talked about it I suppose," Sherlock answers honestly with a slight shrug.

"Should we ask him for you?" James mumbles and his eyes begin to flutter and he yawns again.

Sherlock's own eyes are growing very heavy. His chest rumbles with a low chuckle, "Yeah…sure," he mutters and his head lolls to the side as his eyes flutter shut too.

* * *

><p>John felt the pain first. It shot through his shoulder and down his spine. He groaned and tried to shift, but he felt so heavy. He groaned again and his eyes slowly fluttered open. He hissed at the light and squeezed them shut again. He lifted his good hand and lazily rubbed it over his face. He sucked in a deep breath and finally opened his eyes. He let the breath out through his nose and sighed. He blinked a few times before turning his head. He could hear soft snores and wanted to see Sherlock. He smiled when his gaze finally settled on the detective napping in a chair with the twins on either thigh. It was an adorable picture, and he wished he could capture the moment forever. He slowly blinked his eyes and smiled. He watched them for a moment before the door to his room opened. He jumped slightly, too caught up in the moment. He turned his head and smiles at the nurse.<p>

"Ah, you're awake doctor, nice to see you," she greeted with a smile and recorded his vitals.

John nodded and opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The nurse smiled and moved forward. She pressed a button and John's bed raised a bit so that he was in a semi seated position. He smiled and let the nurse pour water down his throat. God he was in heaven. He drank all the water in the cup and sighed. He let his head sink into the pillow and the nurse left the room quietly.

"Good morning sunshine," a deep baritone sounded from John's right. He grinned and turned his head to see Sherlock awake again. The twins were slowly beginning to wake as well.

John smiled, "Hi," he breathed. The fingers on his right hand flexed, missing the reassuring heat of Sherlock's fingers.

Sherlock grinned and fought against stretching so that he didn't disrupt the twins while they woke, "How do you feel?"

John sighed, "Like I bloody got shot in the shoulder…again," he muttered and a smile tugged at his lips, "I see you've…adapted," he grinned full on then and Sherlock frowned and grumbled.

"I still dislike them a lot," he muttered and stuck his chin out defiantly.

John chuckled, and then flinched when pain shot through him.

Sherlock gave him a pointed look, "Don't hurt yourself," he muttered and looked down as Anna and James both yawned wide.

"Hi Uncle John," James greeted and waved. He slid from Sherlock's thigh and stood.

John smiled, "Hi James…how are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

James smiled, "I'm alright Uncle John," he went to John's bedside and grinned at him. John grinned back.

"Uncle John," Anna starts, but has to stop because her words are swallowed in a yawn, "Uncle John, would you pretty please with a cherry on top marry Uncle Lock?" she still looks sleepy as she asks the question and both men go very still.

Slowly Sherlock and John's eyes meet. Sherlock swallows uncomfortably and shifts. John blinks. He's lost his voice. He's not sure what to do, but James and Anna are both staring at him with huge grins. He settles his gaze back on Sherlock, "I…well…he'd have to ask me himself," John finally manages to get past the lump in his throat.

Anna and James turn to look at Sherlock. He swallows thickly, and his cheeks turn a deep red. "Ask him Uncle Lock, remember, you love him times a billion," Anna urges with a grin, completely serious.

Sherlock would like to very much die. He looks nervous. This is not how he had pictured this moment, if he had even ever pictured it. He looks around the room. This whole situation has gone from bad to worse, and he's not sure how to fix it without hurting John.

John chuckles, "Anna…that's a very important and life changing question, Sherlock…if he ever wants to ask it…he'll do so when he wants to…" John said with a forced grin.

Sherlock blinked, and before he knew it, his lips were moving and his voice coming out, "John, I…I want you to marry me…please?"

John snapped his head up, and cringed at the pain. He blinked wide eyed at Sherlock. Anna and James giggled and clapped. John opened and closed his mouth. He didn't know how to respond. He didn't know if Sherlock meant it, or if he was just doing it because he was put on the spot. John was about to answer when the door opened again and Harry came in.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Ohhhhh, lookit guise, a small cliffy! Stay tuned to see what happens in the next chapter! Please review! Thank you for reading!


	14. In This Moment

**Ripple**

**Chapter 14: **In This Moment

**By: **Raven612

**Summary: **The intensity of last chapter is dealt with.

**A/N: **You all have no idea how awful I feel about taking forever with this chapter. I had so many uni. projects and assignments to do, and then my brain was fried for a while and I didn't want to do any sort of thinking for a while, but here I am and here's the highly anticipated answer!

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><p><strong>*Evening of Day 9 of Hell*<strong>

Harry had no idea the intensity of the situation she had just walked into, but as soon as she walked in, a deafening silence assaulted her. She looked up fearing the worst, but she saw four sets of eyes on her. She swallowed; it felt like her intervention all over again. She looked between them all.

"What?" she asked slowly.

John and Sherlock both looked away.

Anna and James grinned and scrambled from Sherlock's lap, "Mummy!" they shouted as they moved towards her. She knelt down to hug them, but her eyes remained fixed on the two men curiously.

"Fantastic timing as usual sis," John tried to tease to lighten the atmosphere. He caught Sherlock's head snapping up to look at him out of his peripheral vision. John sucked in breath and lifted his good hand to scrub down his face.

"Hello Harriet," Sherlock greeted and gave her a sharp nod.

Harry nodded back and picked James up. She situated him on her hip and looked between her brother and Sherlock, "What did I interrupt?" she asked with a raised brow.

Anna giggled and pulled on her mother's pant leg, "Mummy, Uncle Lock and Uncle John are getting married!"

Harry blinked as she snapped her head up to look at John, "What?" she gasped quickly and then flinched at the sound of her own voice in the quiet room.

Sherlock cringed back, and John turned to look at him. He frowned apologetically, and opened his mouth to tell Harry off when Sherlock beat him to it.

Sherlock's chair slid back sharply as he stood. A muscle jumped in his neck from clenching his teeth so tightly together. He blinked as he looked at John, and then settled his gaze on Harry, "I don't see why John and I pledging our lives together should be so surprising. You married Julie because you love her, right? Then why is it so surprising that I would want to do the same with John?"

Harry blinked, and open and closed her mouth a few times, "I-well…because you're Sherlock," she stammered.

Sherlock snorted and cut John off once more, "Oh yes, Sherlock Holmes the high functioning sociopath…I keep forgetting that about myself, well I was wrong because I found someone I could love and care for. I may not love every damned person in my life, but I also do not want to spend my life with every damned person in it. I only want John. I only love John with every bit of my heart, and since it seems to be the trend these days to wear rings to announce to the world you are bonded to someone then yes, yes, I want to do this. I want anyone who looks at either of us and sees the rings we wear to know that we love and belong to the other. So excuse me if that is something I'd like very much to happen." Sherlock's chest heaved after his rant. It was so quiet. His mind and body were telling him to flee. He had never, ever bared so much in one instance. He wasn't sure how to handle it. Harry's eyes were wide as she stared at him, but he didn't care about her. He looked at John.

John stared up at Sherlock with wilderment and joy in his soft blue eyes. For the life of him, his damned brain couldn't kick in and make him speak. He was at a loss. He'd never heard Sherlock speak so passionately of something that didn't deal with deductions or science. "Yes," he suddenly blurted out, and then chastised himself for such a sudden and unintelligent response.

Sherlock grunted and stumbled forward. He stared hard at John. He wasn't exactly sure what John was agreeing to, or rather he did, but his mind was ablaze and he couldn't focus. John grinned then, and Sherlock felt like something had settled home in his chest, he took a deep breath and smiled back at John. Neither man quite heard the cheers from the twins in the background or the appreciative laugh from Harry, all either man saw or were aware of was each other. Sherlock stumbled to John's bedside and fell heavily down next to his hip. John laughed and wasn't aware of the tears until Sherlock lifted a hand and wiped one away with his thumb.

"I never…I never thought…Jesus…is this real?" John muttered as he stared at Sherlock. He lifted his own hand to cover Sherlock's on his face. He turned his cheek into the warm and familiar touch.

"I-it's real John I-I assure you of that," Sherlock whispered and leaned forward. He pressed his forehead to John's.

John laughed again and shook his head in disbelief, he lifted his good hand and clasped it to Sherlock's neck and smoothed his thumb along the fine hairs on Sherlock's neck, "Are you sure Sherlock? You have to be absolutely positive of this or…or I'm not sure what," he gasped out as his emotions began to well.

Sherlock moved closer and squeezed his eyes shut to better shut out the world, "John Hamish Watson…if there was ever anything so vital to my survival and my sanity…John you are it, you have always been it. I don't care about the work or the problems…none of that matters if I can't have you with it. The twins might have pushed things a bit faster than I had wanted them to happen but…I'm glad they did. John I-" Sherlock cut himself off as he pulled in a deep breath.

John sensed that he was beginning to think of something he didn't like. John tipped his head up to place a soft kiss to Sherlock's forehead, "I'm here, I'm right here love," he whispered quietly and moved his hand up to gently feather through Sherlock's curls.

"John," Sherlock nearly sobbed as he surged forward and wrapped his arms around John's waist.

John hiss in discomfort. He settled his good hand in Sherlock's curls as he felt the spot where Sherlock's head was buried become damp with tears. John bent forward and nestled his lips in the curls. He just hummed and stroked Sherlock's hair, "Shhhh, I'm here Sherlock; I'm not going anywhere and no one is going to make me. I love you, I love you so much," he whispered between kisses.

Sherlock shivered and tightened his grip, "John…you can't…please…I thought…I thought you might leave me and then…and then I'd be alone again and…John," he groaned and nuzzled into him, his tears starting to die down.

John smiled softly, "Sherlock, look at me, see that I'm still here," he whispered and used his good hand to lift Sherlock's head to look at him. His smile faltered a little when he looked into Sherlock's blood-shot and red rimmed greys.

"I love you," Sherlock sighed as he closed his eyes and leaned forward to press his lips against John's.

John made a small noise of happiness as he gladly accepted Sherlock's kiss. He wove his fingers into Sherlock's curls to pull his lips tighter against his own. He loved the feel of those lips moving and sliding along with his own. John was the first to pull back when he felt a small hand on his ankle. He jerked suddenly, and remembered that there were other people in the room. His cheeks immediately heated up. Sherlock chuckled quietly at the sight, and kissed them both.

"Can I be a flower girl?" Anna asked and tried her best to scramble onto the bed before Harry hooked her around her waist and pulled her back.

"Annabelle, stop," Harry warned, but her voice was thick with emotion and tear tracks lined her cheeks. She couldn't help but beam at Sherlock and John.

Sherlock hastily wiped his face before looking over to Harry and the twins. He forced a smile for them, but didn't want to move from his position with John, "Well now you lot know," he muttered attempting to regain his composure the best he could.

Harry gave another laugh and surged forward after setting James down to capture Sherlock in a tight hug, "If you hurt my brother at all Sherlock Holmes, I will end you," she threatened, her voice thick again with emotions.

Sherlock blinked, aghast that she should suggest something so horrific, "Never Harriet, that..I could," he pulled back from her hug, his face ashen, and his eyes blinking as he looked between John and Harry. John reached and wove his fingers with Sherlock's and gave him a reassuring squeeze, "I will never, ever, hurt John, I swear on my life," he finally managed to say.

Harry sniffed and nodded as she reached up to wipe her eyes again, "Good…well…I already knew that but…he'll always be my little brother," she said and stood to her full height.

James and Anna couldn't stop grinning, "Yay! Uncle Lock, I knew you could do it,' Anna cheered as she moved to him and opened her arms for a hug too.

John giggled as Sherlock untangled himself and bent to give her a very quick hug, and then James as well. He lifted his freed good hand and rubbed it over his face. This would definitely be the craziest hospital stay of his life. He sighed and looked at Harry, "I am happy Harry, truly," he reassured her as Sherlock moved off of the bed to allow Harry access to give John a hug.

Harry chuckled and buried her head into John's neck, "I'm happy for you too little brother, bloody hell I never thought I'd see the day but…I wish you two all the best," she muttered and stood up again. She bent and scooped Anna up.

James hooked an arm around his mother's legs and leaned against her as he looked between Sherlock and John, "It's like mum says, love is crazy," he beamed then at what he said.

They all chuckled, and Sherlock nodded, "Aye…that it is James…that it is," he grinned and resumed his seat perched on the edge of John's bed.

Harry nodded, "Alright…well, now that that is over, the kids and I should go, you two need time together. We'll come by tomorrow afternoon, so get all the mushy stuff over now," she told them with a grin and set Anna down and helped them each into their winter coats and accessories.

John smiled and nodded, "You guys take care yeah? And…thanks for the well wishes, I love you all," he called and waved with his good hand as they started to leave.

Harry and the twins waved back and called out endearments of their own before the door clicked and Sherlock and John were left alone. John slowly looked over at Sherlock with a small smile. Sherlock gazed back with his own soft smile. He gently lowered himself to rest his head on John's good shoulder. He draped his arm around John's waist, "That wasn't a show John, I did mean every word I said," he whispered after a moment of silence.

John smiled and nodded his head, "I know Sherlock, if I suspected that you were just saying those things then I wouldn't have said yes," he muttered back and wrapped his good arm around Sherlock.

Sherlock shifted his head so that he could look up at John. He smiled softly and then shifted himself so that he could press a kiss to the material above John's heart, "I'm glad you said yes. You know how hard life with me is, but…I know we can do it John because…because I love you more than anything and I won't ever try and make you mad…I'm not saying you won't get cross with me ever but…but maybe it won't be so often now. I think too that…that I might love the twins a little bit," he smiled and tipped his head again so he could look up at John.

John chuckled and feigned a shocked look, "My God…the world must surely be ending tomorrow…Sherlock Holmes loves the twins even a little…well that's unheard of," he teased gently.

Sherlock gave him a frown and lifted himself up; he hovered over John's lips, "Shut-up John," he growled with a grin and placed his lips over John's.

**End**

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><p><strong>AN: **So, thoughts on this final chapter? I tried to make it fluffy and great since it was the last, but this won't be the last story set in 'Twinverse,' but I am going to start on a different story where the twins aren't even a thought. Between posting my new epic, however, because that one will be a lot of work, I plan to post a few one-shots and 3-4 chapter 'Twinverse,' stories between the end of this and the posting of my new one. Again, no beta or Brit pick so anything that is wrong is all my own fault. Thank you all for reading and to those who reviewed, especially: **Skyfullofstars, ongreenergrasses, tearfullpixie, MandaZ, KatheeHDS, ninjabearclaw, Defenderoftheearth, Kookie Killer, and Improbe Amber. **Also a giant, giant thank you to all the anon reviews and the favourites and alerts. You all mean so much to me and are the reason I write!


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